Myths of Longwill
by lambdagod
Summary: A Systematic Storytelling : Town of Longwill was a place of history and culture. The transforming landscape and the changing lifestyle clash with tradition and established norms in our daily lives. And seemingly unrelated people come together to discover the myths of the Longwill.
1. MoL : 1

Ezro was sprawled on his dirty drunk-father's-TV-seat with a beer can in his hand. Hard shadows flickered around the room as his TV lit with the crappy movie he was enduring.  
On screen, a pale teenager girl was talking with a guy that would be too white for a winter themed furniture catalog.  
"But I love you, Matt." she said to the guy that looked barely male.  
"I love you too, Selene." he replied with a dead cold expression. It wasn't certain if the actor was acting cold or he just failed at acting.  
They moved towards each other and were about to kiss when a shirtless guy appeared suddenly from the bushes nearby. The newcomer was ripped, he was a teen-girl-eye-candy. His brown hispanic skin was oiled so that his muscles would shine on camera.  
"No!" he said dramatically, raising a hand in protest.  
"Eric!" the girl gasped seeing the handsome brown-man.  
"Selene, I love you too." brown-man said.

Ezro shifted his head from one side to another in boredom and filled his mouth with more beer from the can.  
There really was nothing for him to do. His days blurred into one another as he spent his life on this seat that smelled of beer and chips. There was another stench but he couldn't point out what it really was.  
"Is that puke?" he thought as he sniffed.  
The disgusting smell of the chair was more exciting than this neo-vampire movie that tortured his TV screen for the past four hours.  
Worse, it wasn't coming to a conclusion.  
He turned his attention back to TV, something was happening. Maybe finally it was ending. The real despair came from the realisation that despite the two hundred and forty channels  
there wasn't a single thing to watch. Unless you're into constant political bickering, the horribly meaningless news or into people who tried to sell you cheap products.  
Which usually went "Something, something, ninety-nine cents and you get a second one free if you call within five minutes!".

"Eric!" sneered Matt as he saw the brown-man.  
"Matt" said Eric and sneered, revealing sharp wolf-teeth.  
"Oh no!" Selene gasped "How will we ever solve this dilemma of love?" she said placing both her hands on her heart.  
Matt moved between the duo and raised a finger to the sky "There is only one thing we can do."  
They both looked at him expectantly.  
"We must go to Castle Voldorum and consult with the Great Lord of Darkness." declared Matt.  
The next scene was an old castle atop a CGI mountain range that looked like crap. Fake lightning that was even worse than 80's lightning effects roared around it.  
Trio stood before an altar with Selene in the middle.  
"You!" roared the Lord of Darkness standing on a dias with a black robe on, red lining followed on it's edges. It wasn't clear who he meant.  
"You must choose one of these men as your eternal lover. So that the cycle of unending fate can be broken!" he declared in a loud voice.  
Fake lightning roared behind him amongst the darkened clouds.

Ezro had enough.  
"This is such bullshit." he said, dropped the half empty beer can onto the garbage hill next to his seat and rose. As he walked to the balcony his beer spilled onto the carpet from the can.  
He opened the double wooden doors, they groaned with age and felt as if they were going to give up and broke down. They didn't. Ezro held the metal railing and looked ahead, into the night. Cold metal sting his palm as he used his other hand to produce a pack of smokes.  
He shook the pack and put the one that popped up between his lips.  
Behind him, TV kept spewing the fate of the poorly written and acted characters. Sounds of the street had drowned out his thoughts for a moment. Cars streaked past with headlights like bright cones passing by underneath.  
Sidewalks were crowded, but at this time of night one figure blurred into another among the yellow street lights.

He inhaled hard and let the smoke burn into his lungs.  
"I hate smoking." he thought.  
He really did. But never had the chance to quit. He always quit several times a year and then restart when something came up. It was a hopeless cycle.  
"At least I don't have to wait for these sticks to kill me." he said removing the smoke from his lips and looking at it.  
A chilling wind blew around his shaggy beard and penetrated deep into his underwear.  
He shook involuntarily as his body hair rose in protest.  
His gaze rose up into the cloudy sky. The half-visible clouds among the night sky were heavy.  
Rain was coming.

=I=

Downpour caught her and she was soaked before she could reach the protection of a roof.  
"God fucking damn it!" she roared as she entered into a doorway and dropped her wet bag to the floor.  
It was just a short walk from the lecture hall to the library but the rain came without warning.  
Aisha looked at her jeans that was now a darker blue because of all the water they soaked. She grabbed the edge of her sweater and twisted it with both hands. It created a small downpour of her own as she did this.

Her long black hair clung onto her skin as she raised her head and looked at the sky angrily. It was as if she was angry at the sky for doing this to her.  
"What a rain, eh?" came a voice from behind her.  
She didn't turn towards it, knowing who it belonged to.  
Omar came outside beside her and stood next to her.  
She grunted in reply.

Omar was an Iranian migrant like her and he had this funny notion that once you came from the same country, you have to be best friends. Aisha felt the exact opposite. She hated people that wasted her time with small talk. She was socially talented but she hated when a guy that she found unattracted to hit on her.  
"You got caught bad." Omar said trying to make conversation. He smiled anxiously at her.

Omar really had no talent for social situations. He did not get the dream treatment that many migrants expected in their new country. The instant popular-and-sexy spotlight they dreamed of. What was worse for him that he failed to get any company despite being in the collage. That would make a man wonder, if it was him that was the problem. Rest of mankind seemed to move on fairly happy, so Omar had this creeping fear that he would never get a girlfriend.  
"That's probably why he is interested in me, thinking I would be interested because of familiarity or something." Aisha thought as he pondered the exact same thing.  
First she got caught in the rain and now this, her anger rose.

It might be just too much for her but she held her anger in check and managed to mumble something as a reply.  
"This day just won't end." she thought to herself as Omar was saying something she paid no attention to.

=I=

It took him three days to track this guy down. And when he finally set out to meet him, the downpour started. Colin wasn't even sure the guy would be there when he reached at the agreed location.  
"He might ditch me because of the damn rain." he said to himself.  
He had to made this transaction and needed to do it fast. Colin liquified some of his coin funds just for this deal.  
"If he bailed and these coins burn on me, I'm going to rip him a hole." he said angrily, walking furiously and all wet.  
Who he was kidding. He could barely walk this part of town without shaking, yet alone beating up a resident of these parts. And the cold night rain did not help at all.  
He looked to the side alleys as he passed by with fearful eyes. What evil might be lurking within? What devil was waiting in ambush to harm him?  
He almost jumped backwards as a cat flew towards him from a nearby alley. Cat had launched from atop a garbage can and caused it to fall over, clanging onto the sidewalk and spilling it's dirty innards. The circular top rolled onto the street and clanged rythmically as it came to a stop.  
Cat had disappeared in another alley within mere seconds but Colin kept shaking for a full minute.  
"Damn cat, damn cat." he repeated trying to calm his nerves.

This was the bad part of the city. The Mass Housing District was built thirty years ago as a governmental solution to provide low cost homes to the poor. It had failed miserably.  
The bunched together tall apartments was a playground for gangs and all kinds of other troublemakers. Worse, nobody realised just how many poor people can actually live within these walls. Once the house prices dropped due to plenty, an army of poor people flocked to the district. Soon there was a shortage of houses and people started to share them. Four or five families and even more started to live in the crowded spaces designed for one. Also the housing generated it's own type of mob. They forced people to pay extra rent under the name of "protection". Soon turf wars began between different mobs. Streets littered with garbage as the cleaning details slowed down due to the gang wars. Cops never even tried roaming the backalleys, knowing full well it was mob territory. Soon people stopped driving through the district and it was left to it's own ecology. Dead, empty streets filled with garbage and barely maintained roads. During the day the main streets would clog with the poor, the begger and the hooker. But the night was an entirely different world. Colin walked unopposed simply because he used certain streets. These were "neutral" ground that no mob dared approach and those were somewhat traversable. However muggers and kidnappers were always a danger.

Colin was scared of guns so he never carried a piece.  
"Although I should." his mind told him as his eyes darted around to the alleys.  
His cheap hoodie and simple jeans made him less of a target but who knew what the night would bring.  
Each of his steps sploshed around water that was running on the road. The asphalt shone yellow as a thin layer of water flowed over it.  
Mass Housing District sewers always overflown during rain. Colin was lucky that this was just a tiny bit of rain. A worse one would bring out worse things than mere water.  
As he was marching, he didn't realise that he passed the alley where he was supposed to meet up with the contact.

"Hey!" a voice called to him.  
He turned and realised his mistake. He jumped onto the sidewalk wanting to get out of the damn water if at all possible.  
"You have it?" asked Colin to the man in the shadows. Rain had crawled to a stop but his hoodie still dripped water.  
Roads shone yellow as water flowed over like a shallow river, reflecting the poorly maintained streetlights.  
"Yea, yea. You got the money?" asked the man dismissively. He looked like a terrible homeless man, all covered with thick clothing that merged together. His brown coat was worn over several layers of other cloths that was probably collected from a garbage pile. His boots were torn and mended several times. And over his legs were stiched rugs.  
Colin realised that his contact never took off his clothing, he tried to ignore the smell as he approached. However it was a difficult task.  
"Give me the money." said the man with a commanding voice.  
It came out patheticly as he coughed once and wiped his saliva onto his arm.  
"No, you give me the product first." said Colin finding courage from his weakness.  
The man wasn't fazed by Colin's looks but he revealed the ware anyhow.  
"Here." he said holding out a shiny metalic disc-like object.  
"You idiot, don't hold it to the rain." said Colin and motioned towards the man, forgetting his fear with thoughts of protecting the ware.  
Alley-man was calm and kept the ware away from Colin's hands.  
"It's packaged, you fool. Mr. No-One makes no shady deals. It's all wrapped up tidy and shiny." the alley-man smiled, revealing black and yellow teeth. He missed some.  
"Fine, fine." said Colin trying not to breath so that he would keep his nose clean from the smell.  
"Just give it here." he added.  
"Money. No money, no shiny." said the alley-man, motioning the disc-object towards the insides of his coat.  
"No, no. Okay here take it." said Colin pulling out a mass of cash all covered in duct tape.  
Alley-man grabbed the money but he wasn't able to pull it from Colin's grip.  
"The ware." reminded Colin motioning his head.  
"Oh, right." said the alley-man and handed him the shiny disc.  
Colin let go of the money once he grabbed the disc and moved several steps back. The stench of this man was just unbearable.  
"We good?" he asked breathing the dirty but breathable street air, deep.  
Alley-man had somehow opened the duct tape easily, Colin wasn't able to see how but he realised with a thinge of fear that the man must have a knife.  
He knew the deal would not go sour but a weapon always made him nervous. He would never be able to trust someone that carried a weapon around, even if it's a simple knife.  
"How on earth were you to know that he would not turn it upon you in the blink?" he reasoned to himself.  
He calmed his fear and looked at the alley-man.  
"Yeah, we good." replied the alley-man and turned to disappear into the darkness of the side alley.  
Colin stood there all wet for a second before coming to his senses and started moving. His shoes had soaked the water and now plopped with wet socks in each step.  
He got out of there as fast as he could, cluthing his new toy in his arms like a babe.  
His grin grew wider as he ran, towards home.

=I=

One chop followed another as she slashed the meat cleaver downwards. Evening shift was coming to a close at the butchery depot.  
Ladlow raised the cleaver and tore the entire leg from the cow in one swing. Then she used the white sleeve of her work-coat to remove the sweat from her brow.  
"Come on people! Last package and we are done for tonight." shouted the chief in his green nylon apron as he strolled around with a clipboard in hand. His front and hands had stains of blood and meat. A piece of red stuck onto the clipboard and he used his yellow striped pencil to tore it away.  
He spotted Ladlow among the crowd of hanging meat.  
"Lad-dy." he said tipping his black skull cap.  
Ladlow pulled the leg away and handed it to another guy next to her. Worker had to shoulder the leg to carry it, where Ladlow had easily lifted it.  
Chief nodded in appreciation "Good work Ladlow." he said.  
"Thanks, chief." she replied and looked to her right, awaiting for another meat to come before her, so that the process of dismemberement can start.  
"No, no. They need you at the loading." chief said swinging his pencil towards the open doors. There was an enclosed freezer truck rolling into the depot as he did so.  
"Okay, chief. The boys can't handle some meat all by themselves?" she said with a grin.  
"They sure can't. Keep this up and I'll talk to the boss about that raise for you." chief said.  
Ladlow nodded "Will do.".  
She passed through the hanging meat forest, cows and pigs were hanging from their feet. Flayed and ready for chopping.  
"Chief said you needed me." she shouted to be heard in the wide depot.  
Three butchers were pulling at a huge piece of meat that was all wrapped in plastic covers.  
"What is this?" she asked. She had never seen such a delivery before.  
"No idea." said Mike, one of the butchers, swiping his forehead to his sleeve and smearing blood all over his face.  
She looked at the brand on the packaging.  
Label read "Vitalloni Import & Export Co.".  
"Okay boys, let get this thing loaded onto the slab." she said.  
Two of the guys went away to roll in a large metal table towards the huge piece of meat. They held onto the slab so that it won't roll off on it's wheeled legs. Even the wheel breaks might not be enough to stop this package from slipping down.  
Ladlow flexed her well developed muscles and tried the giant piece of meat.  
"You good?" asked Mike.  
"I can do with a crane." said Ladlow.  
"It's huge." she added patting the meat.  
"Yeah." commented Mike as he grabbed a hanging control remote and pressing the buttons. A meat crane moved towards them on it's tracks, hanging upside down from the ceiling, it's sharp curved hook dangled slowly as it moved. It blared a safety siren as it moved towards them.  
Chief had heard of the siren of a moving crane and came in running.  
"No, no, no. No punctures on the meat. It's going whole." he warned.  
"We can't lift this thing without the crane." protested Mike.  
Chief looked at Ladlow for confirmation, he valued her opinion more than these runts.  
Ladlow nodded sideways in a hazy approval. She wasn't sure if they could haul this thing, even with a crane.  
Chief looked at the huge piece of wrapped meat up and down with a calculating stare.  
"Well, I think you can." he said finally.  
"We'll give it a try." said Ladlow and the guys moved in to help her.  
The four butchers pulled with everything they had, three guys had their faces turn red and two of them hardly managed their own weights but Mike managed to lift greatly despite the heavy weight.

Ladlow added her strength and took a heavy lifting position, breaking her knees and channeling the weight from her back muscles to her legs. To the chief's amazement they rose the meat an inch and landed it onto the slab with a loud metal clang. Entire metal table shook under the weight but it was done.  
"Good job." chief congratulated.

"Who's order is this?" asked Ladlow as two of the guys held their back in pain. She wasn't even fazed by the weight. Wrestling made her tough and resistant.  
She was a sucessful wrestler. Not one of those fake takedown show ones but a real wrestler. She also did boxing and other combat arts that interested her. Her primo was professional wrestling but there were no money in it for making a living. Bills were bloated in the city and she had the earn money with a second job.  
She took the butchery job simply because it felt familiar, with lifting and all the muscle work. In the modern times, tools and cranes did most of the work but the meatshop could always do with a strong helping hand, despite all the technological wonders. She found this job relaxing compared to all the other low wage jobs. And since most people were content with their would-you-like-fries-with-that jobs, there was a need for heavy workers in such industries. People's laziness worked in her favor. Despite the hard work, they earned more hourly rates.

"Other girls sell their meat on the poles, while others get their meat pounded to pay for a living. I prefer to pound meat myself." she answered anyone who asked useless questions.  
City was expensive and there were no wrestling on the countryside, so she had to live among this wild forest of brick and metal.  
"No idea, boss's special order." replied the chief looking at his clipboard and then walking away.  
They pushed the table towards the hookless cranes. After wrapping the meat with straps, Mike pressed the hanging crane control remote and lifted the huge meat.  
Ladlow watched as four heavy-weight cranes hauled it up. Heavy-weights were used to lift several ordinary products in one go but for this giant piece of meat four of them groaned under the weight.

She kept watching as the giant meat floated away. Just now Ladlow realised how familiar the meat looked from afar.  
"It looks like an elephant." she mumbled to herself.

=I=

Two shots of gunfire echoed down the street. Douglass jumped, getting startled. He dropped his smoke onto the wet sidewalk and it extinguished with a hiss.  
Sound had came from a distant alley but gunfire always made him uneasy. A relic-feeling he got when he was a police officer. It kept one alive but it also wrecked the nerves. Waiting for the next gunshot was never an easy thing to endure.

"Damn this part of town." he cursed to himself. He moved a step backwards so that he would blend better into the side alley he was stalking in.  
Some damn rich broad had paid him tons of money to track her no-good husband.

When Douglass quit the force to become a private investigator this wasn't the type of jobs he imagined. But they paid the bills so he did them anyhow.  
His hand eased on the holster of his Glock 17 and fell to his side. He wore a brown trenchcoat atop a simple outfit of pants and a shirt.  
He tracked the hubby to the bad part of the city. Mass Housing District they called it. He had a better name for it. The shithole.  
Being a scum was a full-time job on these parts. Gangs would not get close to the "owned" streets. Bigger fish had the control of these "owned" streets and people with urges can come and go in peace to use these facilities. Mostly brothels but some fancy bars and even other establishments existed for the more refined customers. Thugs would also keep clear of any well dressed and well built man within these owned parts, mistaking them for bodyguards and peacekeepers of the mafia. Common thugs usually did not sport a gun so Douglass did not had any problem prowling the streets. Shine of the piece always made these vermin scatter off.

And gangs would stick to their own turf, not wanting a war with the bigger powers that own these streets.  
Being a small time gangster was a good hobby but it would never match the power of an organized "business". And the gangs knew this full well. Not because they were wise but the mafia let them know the rules by making corpses out of anyone who tried their patience.  
Always a bigger fish, they say.  
Douglass watched the hubby walk the streets, hubby walked past several caller-girls and ignored them. These were the advertisement ladies that lured people in to their own establishments.

He finally settled on a bar with purple colored light shining all over it. Handsome man and cute tomboys taunted him with lustful words. Hubby looked to the sides to make sure no one was trailing him and then entered the gay-brothel.  
A guy with a shotgun let him pass through the doors and returned to his watch duty.  
"Oh, not this shit again." said Douglass in a whisper.  
Why did it have to be the gay one again? He were already caught stalking another hubby some months back and the bouncer knew his face. He lied his way out saying that he wanted some free entertainment. Luckily, they didn't beat him up but he was going to get it if he got caught a second time.  
"There is no way I'm getting in there." he thought to himself.  
He never learned how to sneak past people, always counting on his talks to save the day. But a doorguard sporting a shotgun made talking redundant. Especially one that knew him from the recent incident.  
Also the bouncer was twice his side with arms as wide as his head.

Douglass would not get the full payment without solid proof. He could take photos from outside but they weren't as convincing as the real action going inside.  
"Damn it, I need to get in." he said and came up with the worse plan of his life.  
He spotted an independant working lady nearby. These were the hookers that worked for their own pimps and not for any particular establishments.  
"You there, honey. Come here." he said pacing towards her and motioning his with hand.  
She saw him and approached, one hand on her leg and another placed at her hip. He knew that hand was grazing the edges of a makeshift knife. Douglass' ragged looks were not comforting for anyone. He had let go of his looks when he quit the force.  
"What'll it be, handsome." she asked as they closed the gap between each other.  
She stopped within two step's length and kept her distance.  
Douglass produced a hundred east-dollar bill and raised it to head level so that she could see it clearly.  
Her eyes widened as she saw it.  
"See that big guy at the gay place?" he asked nodding towards the bouncer with his head.  
She turned her head and looked the guy upside down, checking the shotgun twice.  
"U-huh." she said.  
"Get him off his post and this is yours." Douglass said presenting the money but keeping it out of arm's reach.  
She looked at the bouncer again and especially to the shotgun in his hands, then back at Douglass.  
"I'll do it." she said grabbing the money and stuffing it in her bra.  
He watched her go, cross the street and chat with the giant door guard. Douglass wasn't sure if he was arabic, turkic or greek. It was certain that he was something-mediterranean but it was also certain that he was quite interested in ladies.  
"Maybe that's why he was working at the man-brothel. Probably got kicked out of a regular one." Douglass reasoned to himself as he watched the duo flirt.  
She convinced him easily and they turned a nearby corner to do whatever they do.

Douglass walked casually and entered through the doors.  
Working men had taunted him and cheered at him as he walked through the wooden double-doors.  
"Welcome to our house, honey." a muscled and oiled guy called to him.  
Another threw kisses as he passed by.  
Douglass tried to look as unflappable as he could be. He was going to get in trouble if he got caught, so he needed to be extra careful.  
"Hi." he acknowledged, trying to be casual as he walked by.  
He disappeared into the brothel. Avoiding the main hall, he took the stairway up towards the rooms. Man-moans had filled the corridor and Douglass was annoyed as he walked by.  
"Just shut the shit." he said under his breath, trying to avoid the mistake of shouting.  
He had nothing against homo-relations but now he needed to concentrate and the sound distracted him greatly.  
First he needed to find where the hubby went, then he had to get proof.  
These places never kept ledgers for secrecy purposes. But they were not anonymous by any means. He knew that there were cameras in every room so that the owners would have a way to blackmail the important people who frequent their establishments.  
He traversed a red carpeted corridor, wooden boards groaned as he walked by. The building was old. Older than the mass housing apartments that filled up this district. Douglass didn't know how this building survived the demolishing fever when the new buildings were to be erected. Owners did not restored anything and apparently left things as they are.  
"There has to be a recording room somewhere." thought Douglass as he listened to each room as he passed by.  
He looked at the wooden heavy doors and tried to discern if any of them were the one he was looking for. Entering the wrong room and alerting the residents was the last thing he needed.

Despite the man-moaning his eyes scanned around professionally and he pinpointed the door he was looking for. He knew this was the room he wanted to get in, because there were badly drilled holes to the wall next to the door and electric cables trailed out of them. This was the hub of the camera network of this brothel. The trailing wiring was tried to be hid behind the dark red wallpaper but it bulged and easily detected by Douglass' professional sight.  
He spent years investigating crime scenes and houses when he was searching for anything suspicious. His honed skills had worked for him even after his departure from the force.  
"Good job, Doug." he congratulated himself silently as he walked to the door.  
Wood floor kept groaning as he walked but the corridor always had traffic so whoever was inside must have ignored the sound.  
He tried listening the door but it was too thick to let anything that isn't a man-moan through.  
"There must be guards manning the recording table." he reasoned to himself. Although he had no idea if this was true. For all he know the room could be empty.  
He had to make a choice. Going in or staying out.  
He decided to go in.

Two heads, one white skinned other black had turned towards him as he opened the door.  
"Shit, that was stupid." Douglass thought to himself as he saw the guards staring at him.  
He stood there as one of the man got up, the other was sitting tensely, ready to draw a gun. His gaze fixed on Douglass.  
"Who are you?" asked the rising black man, his expression wasn't friendly at all.  
Douglass needed to think fast and think clever.  
"Sorry, I was looking for a vacant room. This is my first time here." he apologized to the black guard.  
Guard looked him up and down, judging if he was lying or not. Douglass' pistol was lost in his trenchcoat and would not be revealed without a frisk.  
"This is security. Check the other rooms." said the guard.  
"Okay, thanks." said Douglass acting all anxious and silly as the black guard closed the door to his face.  
"That went well." he thought as sweat ran down his back.  
This was enough for today, he decided. He left the brothel through a back door and disappared in the dark alley.  
Dumb broad had to take his word for her husband's actions. But damn it, the pay would drop and worse he paid the hooker too much.  
"She would do it for fifty, you dumb fuck." he angered at himself as he kept walking.

=I=

Colin threw his wet hoodie towards the coat hanger, it fell like a tower sideways as the coat slammed onto it, but Colin ignored it. He walked over spilled chips and stepped on cushions laying on the floor to reach his computer rig. Two widescreen monitors shone in the poorly lit room. Two extra screens were set vertically on either side. A glass table atop a metallic base shone with inner light as leds lit his keyboard and mouse from below. The surface glass was a special one that prevented fingerprints and other surface stains, except the GodPunch energy drink that had dried over as a blue gauzy ring.  
He revealed the packaged disc and tore open the plastic wraps. He needed to cut through the tape that held it together and within seconds it was in his hands. He rotated it and looked for any defects, there were none. From his growling tower case came forward a disc reader. Colin placed the disc carefully and pushed the reader in.  
His eagerness overflew, he couldn't stop smiling and his hands were shaking. Was it his new prize or the scary place he had to endure that shaked him so? He didn't know, he didn't care. He had the disc. The-fucking-disc.  
And more importantly what was in it.  
A second later the disc started making a whirling noise and a menu poped up on one of his screens. He clicked the menu as fast as his mouse allowed to. It led to a folder where a single file was stored.

Colin's eyes grew as possibilities flocked his mind. He spent years working on many cases. People called them "Conspiracies", but he knew them to be the truth. He contributed crucial evidence to many different online forums, revealing the secrets hidden beneath the veil. Nazi Space Program, Roswell, JFK, The moon landing, Truth about the grey aliens and their secret organizations. He was the one who came up with the most evidence on it all.  
He was nineteen but he contributed more than any other researcher to the truth. There was something out there and he was going to reveal it all.  
But this, this new find would top it all. Nobody would be able to ignore this one. People already knew about the extraterrestrial beings that rule the world, they just ignored it. They went their own comformist lives, they sit in front a TV set and drained their brains out.  
It was the life they accepted and Colin knew they shun it by choice. A choice led by fear and oppression.  
They way he figured it out, there was a super-evolved race only known as the Overlords. Layman called these "Aliens" but they were more extradimensional than extraterrestrial.  
"As if the public would actually knew the difference." Colin would usually add when he was explaining this to others, with the complementary roll of the eyes.  
They used the Earth's moon as a gravitational slingshot to propel their ships in and out of earth's atmosphere. The "Alien sightings" were just the light show that their space-warping engines leave behind. Just like the vapor trail of planes.  
"One must be an idiot to think that such an advanced alien race would let them see you." Colin said in many debates he got into over the years.  
Once the USSR's manned-suicide-satelites found out about the Overlord dish array that empower the slingshot effect, there was a "Space Race" between USA and USSR. Both parties wanted to get the advanced technology on the moon and fuel their own war efforts, but this petty race became dangerous when the Overlords ordered the public execution of John F. Kennedy to set an example.

The message was clear "Stop meddling in our affairs or we will kill you.".  
But mankind was too stupid to take heed. On 1969, an American shuttle landed on moon and a man dressed in poorly developed space suits hobbled along it's surface. It was merely a bug compared to the power of the Overlords, but we had angered them. They punished us by a proxy rule that enslaved us all. They cloned special human substitutes that would pose as the proxy rulers of mankind. These were the "Greys" that all the people talked about.  
The "New World Order" so to speak was Overlords punishing us for our meddling in their affairs.  
It was all so clear but all this would be eclipsed by this new find. He traversed that dangerous route to the Mass Housing District just to get this ware. That single file in the disc was a precious and rare gem.

It was a Wallbreaker cyber-attack software personally coded by Mr No-One. Designed to penetrate into the current defense system of your choosing. Colin had relayed his need before the payment. Mr No-One could only be contacted through his dark-net website where you simply begged him to code for you. He would not code for anyone, even with huge amounts of payment without actually choosing to do so. Mr No-One choose his own work, you told him of your intent and if he took an interest in it, then and only then he would code a cracker software for you. His Wallbreaker rootkits were infamous among the secret agencies. Using or even possessing such a software were globally illegal. Agencies tracked you to your toilet if they even spot you using such a thing. Wallbreaker itself bordered on near-fully-functioning-AI as other online crackers have speculated. It was impossible to reverse engineer such a thing and no one was exactly sure what it does or how it does what it does. The bottom line was that you got what you wanted.  
Colin would use such a thing to penetrate into one of the most secretive organizations that he had encountered. Officially it was known as VALKYRIE Independant Contractor Company. It was a secret organization that hid in the shadows. Who founded it or how many people was unknown, as well as how wide it's branches went. Colin worked hard and tried to find all the information on VALKYRIE but his endevours turned out empty.  
He only managed to gather information on the visible part of the company and nothing else. It was obvious that this was a Private Military Contractor that served as mercenary forces on many conflict zones. But there was not a single information on where they were deployed and in what numbers. Usually the PMCs would deploy in hot-zones, Afghanistan, Iraq, Kuwait, Libya, Syria, Ukraine. But these people, these "VALKYRIE" did not had a single public action they undertook. For all intents and purposes it was a ghost company that barely existed as a front desk and a stupid website. Those kind of websites with "Our vision" and "Our Mission" bullshit written on the front page and a dummy contact information on the Contacts tab.

Colin hacked his way into several of their databases and only turned out with useless information. He knew these were to be the dummy databases that VALKYRIE didn't even bother protecting. The real information stayed safe and secret from Colin's reach at every turn.  
What do these Men-in-black outfit hid? What kind of secrets they kept from the public?  
Colin would know it all. The secrets of the Overlords perhaps. Or something even cooler. Colin wished in his heart that this would lead him to the fabled Nazi Interdimensional Travel experiments that was conducted and succeeded back in 38.  
Who knows what doors would open?  
Colin couldn't wait any longer. He opened the file.


	2. MoL : 2

"Welcome Agent Doover, please enter your private key-code." said the virtual voice assistant as a secret application was revealed on Colin's screen.  
He didn't even install such program but it was right there on the screen. Was there already an access point on his device for VALKYRIE? Or did the Wallbreaker found and installed the VALKYRIE access program by itself? Both ideas were equally terrifying but Colin would never know the exact answer.

Colin's eyes darted from side to side, where he could find such a private key-code belonging to an Agent of this organization?  
Before he could even press a single key, Wallbreaker somehow produced a private key-code and entered it in it's place. A password that could only be known by this Agent Doover, but the Wallbreaker knew it or found it. Colin had no idea how. Then it pressed enter and unlawfully penetrated into the database.  
Colin watched as the cracker program he bought on the black market did all the work and probably broke several dozen laws concerning private property and information theft.

These were easily the stuff that can get you a life sentence but Colin had no choice now. He could only go forward. Would it even worth it? A part of his logic asked but he ignored it.  
Sweat tricked from his brow and his hands shook over the keyboard as console screens popped up, ran their code and closed themselves into nothingness. Several icons appeared and disappeared on his desktop while the software ran. Colin had no idea what they were and what they did.  
He felt useless as the Wallbreaker did all the work but there was no chance that he would be as fast as this amazing software.

Colin had this odd feeling that he wasn't alone sitting in front of his computer screen. It was as if someone was there with him, peering into the screen. He wanted to turn back and look over his shoulder but the idea was completely silly and he ignored the urge. Then everything went black.

Room was embedded in darkness. Colin only saw a black void as he kept staring to where the screen was. His screen had blinked with several windows and then entirely shut down within a second, leaving the room in darkness. What's odd was that all the lights around the room had also ceased to give light. He sat there half a minute, his mind was blank despite the unusual event. Why wasn't he afraid? Why wasn't he broke into a run and leave the room?  
He broke all kinds of cyber laws and was in deep trouble just for using Wallbreaker, yet he did not felt scared. He was calm.  
Something, some force compelled him to sit on his chair and stare blankly into the dark screen that he could hardly see as outlines.

His eyes burned as the screen turned on violently and showered him in bright white light. His screen was no lamp but it shone like it was. Was this device even capable of producing such light? Colin closed shut his eyelids since his hands rebelled against his commands to cover his eyes. He saw blazing red through his eyelids as light penetrated their flesh and veins.

Then the light subdued and shapes appeared on the screen. Colin was fixated on the screen as the scene enfolded before his eyes.

=I=

They moved through the village silently. Unpainted brick walls and nailed wood panels made up the houses of this village.  
"Some piss-poor shit-country." thought Mark as he marched behind Sören in a half-crouched advance. He aimed his rifle at windows and other possible target points as he moved forward.

They had the over-sea issue BMCRs as their main armament. These bullpup combat rifles were more than enough to deal with any targets they were to encounter. But to make them even deadlier, they had installed illuminated red-dot sights with enhanced dusk-vision atop the tactical railing that traversed the topside of the barrel. It didn't exactly served as a full fledged night-vision, but the illuminated reticle with the enhanced sight made targets clear for shooting even at night. Bullpup Multirole Combat Rifles were of top design for operations like these, that required flexibility, mobility and tactical adaptability. BMCRs were of Singapore Technologies design and they weren't even on the market but the Annihilation Corps always got the newer stuff.  
"I get the sense that they're using us to test out these things." Mark thought as a joke. He wanted to say it out loud but judged better to just shut up.

Dawn was coming and the village was in deep sleep. No one would knew they were even there. Their overbulked silencers made extra sure of that.  
Mark heard the spitting sound of silenced rifle-fire and a figure ahead of them dropped silently to the ground.  
"Target neutralized." came in Sören heavy german accented voice to his ear-bead.  
Sören was his point-man. Operatives always worked with partners. Where one failed the other was to make sure the job gets done.  
"Move in." ordered Hasan, the chief-operative over the radio.  
Hasan was leading the VIP with other Operatives. Mark and Sören made sure the path was clear. When the road was open the VIP could be brought forth and allowed to work.  
"Work for what in this forsaken camel-land." thought Mark, more to just swear than asking a question.  
Sören took the helm and marched them silently through the street. If you can even call it a 'street'. It was just single dirt road and water puddles filled with more mud than water in the middle.  
This village was a small settlement that was built before the Libyan Civil War and now with the overflow of refugees from conflict zones, it had blown into a full fledged town. Mark had no idea why they were deployed here or what they were to do. Operatives always worked in the dark. They knew what their mission was and nothing else. Secrecy after all, was security.

Truthfully, it was obvious what they were to do, they were the Annihilation Corps after all. Their unit was massacre incarnate. People called Nuclear weapons or cluster based explosives as Weapons of Mass Destruction. They were wrong. Annihilation Corps was the true WMDs. Nuclear weapons sat in their silos and Cluster bombs blew some kid's legs once in a while when stepped upon. Corps however, moved through the night, killing anyone they were ordered to.  
No questions asked. No logic applied. Pure, simple, easy death delivered.  
"Just like UPS." joked Mark when they were back in the mess hall many times and no one laughed. For they already knew the punchline.  
"Except they die."

They moved extra careful, trying not to step on those water puddles as they moved through the street. Each house was made of whatever the peasants could get their hands on and to save space they were constructed next to one another without any space in between. Not that there were any estate debates in this desert-ridden land but the close proximity had other uses than mere land. It blocked the desert wind for one thing, second, it was easier to defend the clustered houses than a spread out village.  
That was how these clustered housings naturally built streets without any kind of design or planning involved. People needed to move about them so they left these gaps filled with mud as streets.  
Mark wasn't sure to be grateful that they did that, or to curse them. He cursed them for good measure.  
"Fucking camel-riding turban heads." he growled silently as his foot nearly landed into a puddle.  
Sören had heard it but ignored as he moved on. He was way better than Mark at this sneaking thing.  
There were no walkways on the streets and a small river ran in the middle of every damn street. Mark didn't want to guess why there were brown colored water pools in the middle of the road. He could guess the answer when he saw something floating within the puddle next to him.  
It was a piss-poor sewer system that the natives used. They dumped their buckets of shit into the middle of the road and let the dry and hot air of Sahara turn wet shit into dried puddles of shit. They used dried faeces in their ovens as fuel or as fertilizer for crops.

There was another early-riser on their path.  
"Get this one." radioed Sören.  
Mark took aim and placed the red dot on the man's chest.  
Shapes were vague in the morning light but the man saw them despite the poor visibility. He raised one hand towards the sky.  
"Allahu akbar" he shouted towards them.  
Mark froze, the first thing that came to his mind was "Bomb". His senses blared into readiness for action. He waited for something to happen but the silly peasant stood there without moving.  
It felt like an eternity but nothing happened and Mark came to his senses. What the peasant wanted to accomplish, he would never know. His trigger finger squeezed in quick succession.  
Mark was exceptional in his abilities with a rifle but the man's meaningless action took his mind off from his aim for a second. It was a grave mistake for a professional operative. His shot whizzed past the peasant's head and flew into distance. Fear rose in Mark's heart as he realised his horrible mistake. He knew what they did to operatives that underperformed.  
It was called "Early retirement".

Two 5.56 NATO rounds silently embedded themselves into the Libyan's chest and the silhouette of the man dropped to the ground without making a sound.  
Sören dropped his aim and shifted his head to check Mark with the corner of his eye. His face had the WTF-is-wrong-with-you expression.  
They listened the village for an uprising but no one was getting up despite the man's shout.  
"What was that?" came in Hasan's voice over the radio.  
"Nothing. Some drunk peasant." lied Sören.  
Then he cut the Hasan's link and talked to Mark.  
"Why did you allowed him to shout?"  
"It was a split second thing, let's just move. No harm done anyway." said Mark, wanting to dismiss his failure as quickly as possible.  
"You owe me one." said Sören as he prowled ahead.  
"I know." Mark silently growled as he followed.

They were at the center of the village now. Mark had no idea why they had to sneak all this way to get this job done. There was nothing here. Just a shitty bazaar-place with tents and wooden stalls left abandoned in the morning wind. Cloth flapped as dusty wind blew slowly.  
"Skull one, on point." reported Sören.  
He had placed a knee on the ground and kept his rifle sideways as he crouched in the middle of the bazaar.  
Three more men dressed in black camo outfit appeared and prowled towards them. Only two of them were armed with BMCRs. Unarmed man was the "VIP".  
Mark had no idea what this guy's name was or what he was supposed to do. It was really daring to come into territory held by Libyan Government of National Accord without a good rifle strapped onto your chest.  
"Skull one, secure the perimeter." said Hasan as he moved towards them leading the VIP.  
Mark knew that the VIP's call sign was Azrael. He looked the part too. He wore a black skull cap beret despite the dry air and white unkempt hair came out from it's sides like tendrils. His face was pale and his cheeks were sunken into his face. He was supposed to be 30-something but he looked 60. However, his movement was well paced and he wasn't fatigued despite the demanding walk to the village center.

They weren't able to land a chopper into the middle of the village for it was too dangerous to risk any of the villagers having an RPG. Villages around Sawknah was close to the disputed combat line between Tobruk-led Government and Government of National Accord. Hence the villagers were armed with all manners of surplus guns. AKs and RPGs were sold even cheaper than livestock. Most didn't work after a few shots but others did and once the owner died they were used by others.  
Peasants themselves didn't cared much for one fighting side or the other. They just liked shooting at those who came to their door for purposes of raping and looting.  
So the Operatives had to walk all the way into the village and bring this VIP guy along with them.

Mark watched the the old looking VIP, Azrael, took position in the middle of the bazaar. Tan colored cloths and blue nylon tents flapped around him as he stood on his feet on a straight pose.  
Azrael's arms spread to either side in a downward 'V', his hands looking down onto the ground with fingers apart from one another. It looked like he was trying to suppress something.  
Mark knew that this man was dangerous. His spine tingled with unease and a single drop of cold sweat ran down his back. Suddenly it felt very cold. Very, very cold.  
Desert nights were cold but this was simply too much for anything natural.  
Mark's black hair shuffled in the wind as he stood silent, watching Azrael at work.

"We might be here for a while, make sure no one that wakes up lives a second longer." ordered Hasan and Mark broke his gaze from Azrael to check the two streets that was within his vision-arc.  
"Affirmative." he radioed back.

Azrael opened his conciousness and looked into the tendrils of creation. Everything was connected. Life, death, matter, energy. And he was here to sever that connection. His mind filled with images of dissected corpses he worked on. Each muscle merging into another like a woven fabric. Bones being held by white tendons, veins taking shortcuts within the body to reach where they need to go like highways of blood.  
He opened his eyes and willed that flesh he knew to rot. To dissolve as he willed it and separate from their perfect bindings. Veins would tore, muscle cells would contract and breach the bonds between them. Tendons would break their binding to the bones, flesh cells would explode open their lysosomes and release hydrolytic enzymes into themselves, committing suicide by organic dissolution.  
Lungs would draw blood into themselves and suffocate the body. Heart would stop beating and poison the cells with clotted disoxygenated blood.  
Life was a puzzle to Azrael. Like a hard question with an easy answer. How one would die was the hard question. So many alternatives existed. On the other hand, death was the easy answer. It was certain and simple. All things die. Once created, one was destined for an end. When? Answer to that question was on Azrael's lips.  
"Now." he exhaled as his mind released this horrible wave of death upon the habitants of this village.

Mark stood there watching the streets become more lit as the hour passed. Nothing was happening. Nothing. And he was getting tense.  
"What the hell are we waiting for?" he said to himself and kept his aim towards the doors for possible targets. Luckily no one was getting up yet and dawn was two hours away.  
He checked Azrael with a side glance and saw him standing there just as he was an hour before. Azrael stood there like a statue as the dry wind blew around him.

"Too much, too much people." Azrael's brow was filled with sweat as life around him suppressed his imagination of death. If Hasan realised that he wasn't making any progress it would not be good for him.  
Annihilation Corps was not a forgiving organization concerning Operatives that fail their jobs. Worse, he was in no position to hide his failure. Once the miserable peasants of this village woke up alive, Azrael would invite a bullet into his skull.  
"Die." he growled to the essence of life around him, wind and flapping nylon sounds drowning out his words.

Another hour passed but he wasn't making progress. He could not fail, he just could not. Dawn was upon them and rays of light glow like a crown atop a desert hill. Sun was coming up. And people started to wake up.  
"What is wrong?" came in Hasan's voice over the radio.  
Hasan was keeping radio silence until now to let Azrael work, but things were getting out of hand.  
"Nothing. Everything is fine. Give me a minute." replied Azrael.  
"You had three. Do this now or we abort." said Hasan.  
Azrael growled a reply and focused on his vision.

"Contacts." reported Sören as he spotted Lybian peasants leaving their homes and looking around as they spot Azrael in the middle of the plaza. They had no idea what was going on but Operatives would take no chance.  
"Open fire." ordered Hasan.  
Tapping sounds of silenced gunfire filled the plaza as the Operatives fired. Azrael still stood there, trying to salvage the situation but it was clear that things look grim.  
Mark spotted a women and a kid leaving their semi-tent home and took aim. He switched off the glowing red-dot sight for it was already bright enough.  
He shot the women through the chest and she dropped silently. His rifle only made a whizzing noise as it delivered death. Kid was dazed by the sudden collapse of the woman. Mark took his chance to deliver the same treatment to the child.  
Shooting them was quite easy, however once all the people woke up there would be dozens of angry, armed peasants against the five of them.  
Mark didn't liked those odds.  
"We should leave before more wake up." he radioed to Hasan, but got no reply.  
"Focus at the work at hand." said Sören as his rifle spent two more cartridges.  
Mark checked his ammo and made sure none of the magazines had anything problematic on them. Things were about to get hot and he was damn ready.  
He head-shot a man as he left the house. Lybian dropped to the side without making a single noise.

What the other Operatives did not know was that Azrael was holding back. He was limiting his own control so that he could defend them from his wave of rot. But now that his own life was at stake, Azrael didn't care anymore. He wasn't going to hold back. He focused on one thing.  
"Kill them all."  
Death roared around him as he started to assert his own will onto the creation.  
People waking up found their own arms rotting as they still lived. Children had their faces dissolved into their skull as they laid on their beds, dead. A woman tried to rise up from her bead and her tits fell onto the ground as they become blacked with corruption.  
Organs squirmed and died. Noses, fingers, penises, breasts fell off from the body as they lost their cellular connection. Just like the statues of ancient Egypt, any external organs were the first to fall prey to gravity as they died.  
Some people were struck by immense pain and died of heart failure.  
"More! More death!" screamed Azrael as he was releasing a power no technology can surpass.

His rifle fell from Mark's hands as he felt a numbness grip his arm. He used his other hand to grab the rifle and fire at a nearby peasant. He managed to shot him in the gut and the peasant collapsed. He was still alive but was in no shape to scream. Peasant sat there clutching the bullet wound with one hand, unable to rise the other. Mark clearly saw that half the peasant face was black with gangrene. His teeth were hanging loosely in his mouth and his ear dripped flesh like a melting wax.  
Mark was no stranger to death. But whatever this was, it was unnatural. No bullet, no explosive, no knife could do such a harm. It was simply impossible.

Azrael had things getting out of control. But the more he killed the less burden he needed to deal with. Time was precious and he had to be quick. His care for the other Operatives was none existant at this point. He wasn't going to die, that was the only thing that mattered now. And he could always come up with an excuse for their deaths later.  
However, the damned Operatives were just people and they had witnessed the effects of his work. This complicated things. Their mere witnessing cause the universe to lurch in protest. Their disbelief fuelling the anger of the creation. He fought against the onslaught of power, pushing his will against the laws of the universe.  
It was like screaming at your parents to get something you wanted as a child. The authority was always powerful and you were weak, but there was always a chance that you can win. You just needed to keep screaming. And keep willing.  
"I command death. You will bow to my will." he gritted his teeth, trying to sound in control.  
After a moment of terrible conflict, the tendrils of creation subdued against his will. Finally he was so close into completing the circle. Death shall reign.

A grey mist blew in a circle from where Azrael was standing. It traversed the village and disappeared into thin air when it reached the edges. More than a hundred people died by the wave of death. Their flesh rotting as they yet lived.  
Mark had lost the left side of his sight as his left eye died. Cells that transmit light into nerve signals died out behind his eye. His retina dissolved like milk into his eyeball as it's chemical make-up came loose.  
He screamed in pain. When he opened his jaw to shout, his weakened cheek flesh tore apart. Cheeks were punctured by several holes as he screamed in terror and pain. He had already lost his rifle, he was too much in pain to know where it was. His ears were also dying but he could still hear the screams of other Operatives on his ear-bead.  
His arm grabbed a piece of wooden stake nearby and he tried to rise himself but only managed to lean on it. He was losing muscle control fast and his energy left him just as quickly.  
A peasant that still lived ran into the street with an AK-47 in hand. His entire right arm had dropped off and only a rotted piece of stump was all that's left. He tried to fire but his finger broke when he pressed it against the trigger. He fell on his knees and bent backwards from immense pain. His face turned black as cells died and flesh melted downwards, revealing the grinning skull beneath. Peasant was dead but his body remained in the horrid pose with a grinning skull instead of a face.

"What is happening?" wanted to shout Mark but he fell face first into the muddy water and moved no more.  
Azrael looked around the carnage. He had killed more than a hundred people within several hours and exhausted himself to the limit. But his ruthless nature made him impartial to the demise of these worthless people.  
"All things die." he said to himself. Standing there alone at the center of a massacred village. He even had killed his own men and didn't care for their demise one bit.  
He still needed to haul their equipment somehow. After a moments thinking he decided to call in the helicopter but another solution presented itself as several car lamps revealed towards the village, coming from the hills.

Several military vehicles with desert camo painting came inside the village and stopped when they spotted Azrael sitting there. Vehicles were three RG-31 Nyalas and carried United Nation markings.  
"Identify yourself." shouted the gunner at the front vehicle as he pointed the machine gun at Azrael.  
Azrael got up and presented his hands in the air.  
"United Nations Reconnaissance Division." said Azrael.  
"Which unit?" asked the gunner.  
Azrael didn't know the answer to that, he was lying so that they won't arrest or shoot him.  
"Which unit?" repeated the gunner.  
"Who is your commanding officer, soldier?" asked Azrael standing upright and lowering his hands.  
"Why are you lying?" accused the gunner.  
"There is something your officer need to see. Then we can talk." said Azrael staring at the gunner.

Soldier could pump rounds into Azrael's body right then and there but the soldier faced a more horrible fate. Before him stood a man who had just murdered an entire village including his comrades in cold blood. Gunner didn't know that and had no idea what he was up against. Still, he stood boldly against this solitary man they just found in the middle of a village.  
Before things get more tense, second Nyalas's door opened and several armed soldiers descended along with their officer in charge.  
"You got something for me?" he asked as his men circled the plaza and kept Azrael at gun point.  
"I do." said Azrael and produced a piece of paper in plastic sheet.  
He handed the paper to the officer and waited for him to read.  
Officer's eyebrows rose in wonder as he kept on reading. When he was done he handed it back to Azrael.  
"This says that you are under direct jurisdiction of both the United States Department of Defense and United Nations Department of Peacekeeping."  
Soldiers around them turned to look at this men with this much authority. In layman's terms he held the military jurisdiction that enabled him to operate in any western involved country. Without borders or boundaries. And this was the public jurisdiction he got. No one could guess what was his jurisdiction involving black operations.  
These soldiers didn't know that this was a black operation and not just a simple recon or something else.  
"And you?" asked Azrael as he tucked the paper into his combat vest.  
"US Army International Peacekeepers Division, UN branch. George Walker, second security patrol, sir." said the officer slapping a salute to Azrael.  
"At ease. You may call me Azrael."  
"Az-?" asked the officer confused by the nickname.  
"-rael." finished Azrael.  
"Yes, sir. What happened here?" asked officer George.  
"That..." began Azrael looking at his rank "...Sergeant Walker, is none of your concern. I lost several Operatives here and I need you to carry their equipment back to your base for a pick up. And me of course."  
"Sir, there are bodies all around these buildings." came back one of the Infantry hurriedly.  
"Same here, sir." said another.  
A third reported the same findings.  
"Carry my men into the vehicles, now!" said Azrael, losing his patience.  
Walker motioned his soldiers to obey with a hand signal.  
"If I know what happened here, sir Azrael. Then I can provide you with better support." said Walker.  
"They died. All of them died. That is all you need to know." said Azrael.  
Walker looked puzzled "The entire village? But there are no active combat reports by any of the nearby recon stations."  
"Even if someone slipped past the patrols, how can a small team can kill an entire village without alerting anyone?" he added.  
"Maybe they did, maybe they didn't." said Azrael with an uncaring attitude.  
"Did you engage them? How did you lose your men?" asked Walker.  
Azrael looked at the US infantrymen as they carried the corpses of the Operatives and load them into their vehicles.  
He sighed "Look, sergeant. I am dead tired and can barely stand up. You can read the after-action report when I filed it. But right now, we leave. It's an order." he said.  
"Yes, sir." said Walker, suspicious but obedient.

A few weeks later, Sergeant Walker would look into the investigation and try to find this report that he was promised. But there never was such a report, nor any investigation to follow up on.

=I=

Colin watched in horror as the helmet-recorder of one of the Operatives showed him the cruel details of every death. When the Operative died the camera fell into the mud so he couldn't watch no more. But he could still hear the screams and the howling wind. His speakers protested in this barrage of noise.

Then the screams become silent and the wind was omnipresent. He wasn't able to see or hear but he could discern the mumblings that was unintelligible speech. He waited several minutes before someone picked up the dead Operative and carried it somewhere. Camera was mired in mud and didn't show anything except a brown stain. The feed turned off after several minutes of engine noises and Colin's screen turned back to normal.

"This is horrible." he said, still in shock. He wasn't even aware he said it out loud.  
He wasn't looking for this. Was he? All he wanted was to learn more about the Overlords and this was not what he expected to get involved in. Everything was out of control now. He had lost control when he made the decision to bargain with an anonymous hacker, paid for his software and ran it on his computer. A long chain of mistakes led his to this moment.  
"I should have just stopped." he told himself with a voice filled with regret.  
In contrast with his horrible mood his room was back to normal. Lights were lit as they were before. His screen sported his usual desktop with an anime girl wallpaper on the background. Everything was just like the way he entered the room. Cloths and chips packaging laid on his carpet. And a blue stain of GodPunch on his glass table.  
His coat hanger was still dead, lying without moving on the floor.  
Everything was back to normal.

"Just one stupid video. Not like I haven't seen worse things on the internet." Colin said to himself, forcing a laugh to ease his nerves.  
It was nothing after all. He didn't seen anything of importance.  
Just some gruesome black operation.  
"Like, people didn't know there was this kind of thing happening all the time. People know about the secret budges and secret agencies the governments had after all." Colin reasoned it as common knowledge.  
And this video was no big deal. Nobody would spent the time to track him down because of one stupid video he watched.  
Sure he penetrated into a database that he wasn't supposed to but he didn't do anything else. He didn't copy any information, he didn't manipulated the database in any way.  
Or did he? Was he even hundred percent sure that the cracker program didn't do any alteration or data theft?  
Colin was so scared of the implications that he dismissed such a notion.  
"I'm not in trouble." he said to the empty room with a nervous smile.  
Right? His mind echoed back.


	3. MoL : 3

-III-

"Hi." introduced himself the very muscled guy in a gym-tights.  
His handsome face had a large winning smile. His hairless features and short hair was prominent.  
"I'm Knight Armstrong, you probably know me from famous TV shows such as Wrestle-House, Terrorists-With-Muscles, Kicking-Lifestyle-With-Armstrong and How-Hard-Can-You-Smack-Your-Wife." he continued to his introductory greeting script.  
A body building hot lady came into the shot, she was also clad in skinsuit gym-tights.  
Her smile looked fake as hell, but she kept smiling as she walked into the frame.  
"Hello, Knight." she said.  
"Hi, Kate. Ever heard of Hercules?" asked Knight.  
"No, I haven't. Who is he?" she asked trying to act clueless.  
"He was one muscled son of a god. He wrestled lions for his morning exercise."  
"Wow! That's impressive." she said acting all impressed.  
"What if I told you that you can be as strong as him?" asked Knight.  
"I would tell you that you're mad." she replied.  
"And without working out!" he added.  
"But that's impossible!" she said.

Knight produced a plastic bottle with white cream-like liquid in it.  
"Not anymore!" Knight showed the plastic bottle to the camera.  
"What is that?" asked Kate.  
"This, Kate...is HerculesSeed." presented Knight.  
Graphics appeared on the screen. Stating that it is indeed HerculesSeed. If someone cynic speculated that it wasn't, then now it was proven beyond doubt.  
"What does it do?" asked Kate.  
"It gives you muscles that would make Zeus himself jealous."  
"That's amazing." Kate acted impressed. She nodded while twisting her lips as a sign of impression.  
"Yes, Kate. It is. Moreover it's only for 49.99 Easts."  
"Wow, it's not even 50."  
"And if our guests call within the next five minutes, they get another one for FREE!" declared Knight.  
"With this amazing drink you can grow muscles like moustache on a macho-man." said Kate.

Video of a fat person trying to work out appeared. After he sweated and failed, he drank HerculesSeed. Video spiralled away and a muscled man drinking HerculesSeed appeared instead. Emphasising the transition from fat-loser-fuck to winner-muscle-man. When he was done drinking the HerculesSeed, muscled man looked to the screen and smiled. Other videos featured fit woman doing the same thing.  
Knight and Kate reappeared over a graphic window. This time the graphic had forced them into a small window at the corner and showed the price of the product instead. They talked more about the amazing muscle building effects of HerculesSeed for the next few minutes before their ad time ran out.

Ezro was passed into sleep on his TV-seat when door banged violently and woke him up. He rose his upper body, still sitting on the seat and took several seconds to regain his focus. Door kept banging as he tried to wake up.  
"What the fuck? Landlord must be pissed." he said as he walked to the door.  
A young brown haired guy in a hoodie stood in front of his door.  
"No thank you, I don't want Jehovah to witness anything." he motioned to close the door to the guy's face.  
"No, no, no." said the guy and put a feet to prevent the closing.  
Ezro was about to open the door and slam it back to the guy's feet but the feet retracted.  
"Please, mister Delano. I need your help." said the hoodie guy.  
"You know me? I don't care who you are, so leave." said Ezro.  
"But I need help. There are people after me."  
"So? As I said before, I don't care." he was about to close the door shut again.  
"Look, look at this." said the hoodie guy producing a piece of paper and pushing it to Ezro's chest.  
"Take a step back or I kick your teeth in." growled Ezro as he grabbed the paper with one hand. The other was ready to smack the shit out of this homeless-looking fuck.  
"Okay, don't get mad. Just read that." said the hoodie as he took a step back.  
Ezro looked at him with a scowl before laying eyes on the paper.  
"Where did you get this?" he said after a few seconds of reading.  
"She-she gave it to me. Lady at the reception desk." said hoodie looking left and right nervously .  
"I don't work for them anymore." said Ezro throwing the paper to the hoodie-guy. He caught it mid-air.  
"Yes, yes. They said that but I thought you might help me anyway."  
"Help with what?"  
"Please, can we get inside. My life is on the line." said the hoodie-guy looking pleadingly at Ezro.  
He rolled in the idea of letting this guy into the flat in his mind a bit "He did found the organization so that must have count for something." he reasoned before deciding.  
"Fine." he sighed letting the guy in.

"How did you find the organization?" asked Ezro.  
Hoodie guy was sitting on a kitchen stool awkwardly, as Ezro sat at the arm of his TV-seat.  
"The darknet. I found their website. I didn't know what else to do. I needed protection."  
"And they said that I could provide such a thing?" asked Ezro.  
"They said that you were capable. And affordable." said hoodie.  
"What's your name?" asked Ezro lighting a smoke. He showed it to the hoodie-guy but he declined the offer with a quick shake of the head.  
"Colin...Colin Abram."  
"Look, Colin. I don't work in bodyguard duty anymore. I don't work as a bounty hunter too. I just do some favours when people asked. And that's mostly delivery jobs." explained Ezro.  
"The-they said you can help. I can pay you. Look." he revealed a mass sum of duct-taped money from his pocket.  
"I don't need money." said Ezro finishing his sentence by inhaling the smoke.

Colin looked around the shitty flat, he observed the peeling wallpaper and a really disgusting looking TV-seat with piles of food garbage around it.  
Beer cans and smoke packages laid on the wooden floor, some were crushed into a thin paste.  
"You certainly look the part." he commented.  
Ezro let out a cloud of smoke.  
"I'm done with that life and sure as hell not going back for someone I don't even know."  
"But I need help. They are af-after m-me..." Colin started crying and mumbling at the same time.  
Ezro regretted to let this guy in.  
Colin kept on crying and talking "I-I d-didn't even do anything. There were these guys and they came to my house." he kept on babbling.  
Ezro couldn't be less interested in the lifestory of this guy. He zoned out as Colin kept yammering, he only heard glimpses of it as he ignored the crying guy.  
"...just one video..."  
"...I didn't do anything..."  
"...and there was this old guy..."  
"...they died and..."  
"...there was shooting..."  
"...then this Azrael ordered them to..."  
Ezro lifted his head, interested.  
"What did you say?" he asked.  
Colin was dumbstruck as he was taken out his trance of mumbling.  
"I couldn't see anything but this Azrael guy talked to someone. There were engine noises. I didn't even see anything. I'm innocent. Why would they be after..."  
"Azrael, you say." said Ezro to himself, inhaling the smoke deep.

=I=

"Mistress will see you now, Mr. Finley" said the butler with a slight bow.  
They had Douglass wait in the wide antechamber of the mansion. It was more like a wide hall than a mere antechamber. Old wooden structuring trailed along every edge of this mansion.  
Douglass was standing on a wide-sewn expensive carpet covering the wooden flooring below.  
He kept wearing his brown trenchcoat like it was his skin. It was proper for the butler to take away the coat but he refused it twice. Now that he was about to see the Mistress of the house, butler once again motioned to grab his coat. Obsessed to put it in the closet.  
Douglass just moved ahead, ignoring the butler and thus keeping his coat on. He was professional in that sort of assholeness.

This was the Alcester Mansion. The Alcester Mansion. It was one of many villas atop the Estate Hills. Estate Hills were the gathering point of the rich people's villas. It was located to the north-east of the city. City itself held the absurd official name 'Diaz Guardian City', named after a prominent political figure that led a liberation effort some hundred years ago. Common people referred to it as 'Guardian City'. Back in that day Estate Hills were the lands of aristocrats which was transformed into bourgeoisie holdings when the land was taken from the hands of the privileged. Just to be given to the newly privileged.

Gardens that are the size of small national parks covered around the lavish villa houses. It was more appropriate to call them mini-palaces, considering the size of the lot. The rich had laired on the Estate Hill, all the land were privately owned and unlawful to trespass. Douglass had to drove to the Mistress' villa and pass through it's metal gate as several armed guards stared at him.  
It felt like passing through the bad parts of the inner city, except these thugs were well dressed.

When he failed to obtain the coat, Butler gave up and opened the carved-wood double doors that lead to the main-room of the house.  
Mistress was sitting legs crossed as she waited. Her seat was a dark green chair with gold-colored arms. She was sipping a liquor from a crystal glass, while facing a fireplace that had no fire in it. Despite all the paintings on the walls and the furniture, the room felt empty and cold. Douglass felt the solitude seeping from the room when he stood in the middle of it. The height and width of the room was unnerving. He didn't realised the giant circular carpet he was standing on. Collectively the decoration made him feel small, insignificant.  
Mistress was a woman in her fifties. Dressed in a red gown with only a single huge leg cleavage that revealed a full leg. Rest of the dress was as tight as a nun's, save for the hands. However it looked like the tight and thick cloth did not hamper her movement, not casual ones anyway. Her dress was a special design that must have cost a fortune. Douglass wasn't sure what she did to earn this much but he didn't cared either. His palms sweat as his mind ran through all the possible rants she was about to unleash on him.

He had failed in grabbing a concrete evidence on the man-whoring of her husband. And she specifically asked for it. An empty handed returning agent was a bad thing to be. And Douglass was just one right now.

"Mr. Finley." came her strong voice and echoed in the high-ceiling room. The height of the room made Douglass realise a huge chandelier hanging like a great spider from the ceiling.  
"Yes, ma'am." she replied as he glanced at the chandelier.  
"You have arrived late."  
"I was...um...traffic." he lied.  
Shanon Alcester in her gorgeous red dress scanned Douglass from top to bottom with her penetrating eyes. Her face was serious but her pose let out a feeling of comfort. She extruded power that was more than mere being wealthy.  
"Traffic? At this late at night?" she raised an eyebrow, seeing through the lame excuse.  
"It sure is late, but you don't seem tired at all." said Douglass dodging the question.  
"I am tired, Mr. Finley. Tired of failure."  
Douglass gulped before composing himself.  
"I did tracked him, he went into a..."  
"I know you did. However you have failed to bring back evidence, which I specifically asked for you to obtain." she said as she circled the liquor glass in her hand.  
"I thought you wouldn't want to see the...the evidence." said Douglass, making up another excuse to mask his failure.  
"You didn't thought anything, Mr. Finley..." Shanon began.  
"God! I hate when people call me that." Douglass raged in his mind.  
He didn't liked getting nailed with guilt. Least he detested to be referred as a "Mr. Finley", the political 'Polite talk' was all bullshit to him.  
"...you simply failed to bring me my evidence."  
Douglass had quite enough, it wasn't worth it.  
"You weren't there, how can you know if I failed or not?" he said angrily.  
"Oh but...Mr. Finley..." she said snidely as she enjoyed the contorting expression of annoyance on Douglass' face.  
"...I did see you." she concluded.  
Douglass looked away trying to mask his surprise by focusing on some of the paintings. She watched him like a preying bird.  
He walked towards one of the painting and turned to her.

"And how did you managed that?" he asked acting all calm.  
She didn't answer. Instead produced a remote and pressed it. The painting Douglass walked towards rose upwards, startling him in the process. A screen was revealed and a second later it started playing a camera recording of the man-brothel which Douglass sneaked in.  
Douglass watched himself as he fled the building like a coward and disappear into the night. Then the most important question struck him.  
He turned to her to ask it, it couldn't be done without looking into her eyes.  
"If you have access to the building, then why did you send me in?".  
"Aaah, I was half expecting for you to miss that most obvious point." she mused.  
"You knew about your husband..." said Douglass trying to pull an explanation out of her.  
"I own the place, Mr. Finley. I know all about the tastes of my husband." she said setting down her glass.  
Douglass gave up. His shoulders sank. "I don't get paid, do I?" he said.  
"No, not unless you listen to my proposition."  
"I might get killed in there. The damn door guard was..." began Douglass but Shanon cut him off.  
"Ilias is quite intimidating, isn't he." she sniggered at him.  
Douglass was angry, both because he was deceived but more so that his pay was in jeopardy.  
"So what is your proposition?" he asked.  
"Come, sit." she presented a nearby chair.  
Douglass walked to it but kept standing.  
She made a suit-yourself expression before speaking.  
"I need someone found Mr. Finley."  
"Can you just...call me Douglass, okay?" Douglass snapped.  
"And you can call me Mrs. Alcester." she mocked.  
"So, about that proposition." said Douglass, he just wanted to get to the part where he said no.

"I need someone found." she said.  
Douglass stared at her waiting for her to lay out the entire thing. When she didn't continue he had to prompt.  
"Someone important?"  
"Ever heard of Longwill, Mr. Finley?" she asked with an entirely serious face. Her sly and dominant expression was completely gone and replaced with a business face.  
She made sure that Douglass would understand that this was a matter with zero tolerance of failure.  
"No, can't say I have." he said.  
"Longwill is a town. And a woman is lost after her trip to the town. I want her found and brought back to me."  
There were many towns and villages around the city and none of them seemed important to Douglass. Police, after all, was only interested in the city and it's holdings. And his PI work never led outside the city limits.  
"No, thank you." said Douglass.  
Shanon rolled her eyes.  
"You owe me, Mr. Finley."  
"I owe you? You haven't even paid me yet." Douglass defended.  
"You will be paid your measly sum for the brothel job you did." she said waving a dismissing hand.  
"But that was just to see if you were determined or not." she added.  
"And I have failed." Douglass said as if taking pride in it. All he wanted was to get whatever payment he could get from this witch and walk away.  
He could just walk away, leaving the money behind. But being a private investigator also meant that you had to suffer through these social trades.  
"Not entirely." she said.  
"You were determined and resourceful enough to get inside. I'm sure you would complete your task if you were sufficiently motivated."  
"And what motivation that would be?"

She toyed with her glass.  
"You were a hero cop." she said.  
Douglass wasn't sure if she was asking or telling.  
"I was." he answered anyway.  
She looked up to him.  
"You saved a little girl from a serial killer back when you still carried the badge."  
Douglass looked at her with a serious gaze, he had no idea where this talk was going to turn to.  
"Why did you quit the force, Mr. Finley?" she asked.  
"I was...it was too stressful." answered Douglass after a moment's hesitation.  
"Oh? And being a private investigator is not?"  
"I have to pay my bills somehow."  
She smirked.  
"Is that the only reason?"  
Douglass didn't answer and just made a small nod to dismiss the answer.

"I want you to go to the town of Longwill. Find this woman. She has a mission that was in my interest, help her if need be. My butler, Jonah will give you a file with all the information on your way out."  
She kept on with the subject like it was already set in stone.  
"I haven't accepted the job." pointed out Douglass.  
She looked at him with a disapproving look. As if she already had him in her clutches, yet he didn't know it.  
"Do you know who I am, Mr. Finley?" she asked.  
It felt like a really awkward and stupid question. Douglass shook a head in confusion.  
"I do, you're Shanon..."  
"...Alcester." she finished, emphasizing the surname with all the power her voice carried.  
"Alcester family is a serious line, Mr. Finley. If you haven't learned what Alcester means then I suggest you do it quickly." she said threateningly.  
It was enough. Getting threatened was the limit. Douglass turned to leave.  
"How is the girl? The one you saved. Sarah...I believe her name is." her voice echoed down the room.  
Douglass stopped dead in his tracks. He turned with a hateful look in his face.  
"She is all grown up. Do you think she remembers what happened back then?" she said, her eyes never left Douglass' as she said it.  
"I don't know what you mean." his voice came through gritted teeth.  
"Then let me be direct. After you saved her that day you kept seeing her. In secret. And you had your way with her. Isn't that correct, Mr. Finley?"  
Douglass' face turned red.  
She smirked in reply, pouring herself another drink.  
"Is that something you do regularly? Have sex with children?" she asked as she poured.  
Douglass moved towards her, his fists clenched.  
"A-a-a." she shook her head as he came before her.  
"That's not how this goes, Mr. Finley. Sit." she ordered. Pointing to the chair he refused earlier with a commanding finger.  
Douglass looked at the chair then back at her before sitting down.

"I don't...regularly...no." he only managed to say.  
"Look, Douglass. I am ready to make a handsome proposition to you. All I ask is that you work for me." she said.  
"Without failure." she added coldly.  
Douglass nodded.  
"Hmm..." she rolled her tongue in the liquor feeling the taste.  
"You don't know the generosity of the Alcesters. Don't fix me with that snake stare of yours." she said waving a hand at him.  
Douglass was in a tight position. How did she learned of his past? Nobody knew. Nobody. Had Sarah talked? Did she remembered? Douglass felt his chest crushing under stress and fear. If the people learned of what he did back then. If hear family knew. His entire reputation would be shattered. Not only he would be sentenced but he would be degraded in everyone's eyes. Living in the city would be impossible for him.  
From hero cop to child molester. A long fall.

"I accept." he said, looking downward in defeat.  
"Whatever you want." he added.  
"Oh, don't be like that, Mr. Finley. I want my agents in fighting spirit. Not defeatist pussies." she said.  
His head rose to look at her expression. He wanted see if she was mocking him again. But She was very serious, her expression wasn't a mocking or ridiculing one.  
"Just know that I hold your leash and this little...adventure of yours would never leak, as long as you serve me right. Not from me it won't. We Alcesters work by our laws. We are not some mafia rabble. In time serving under me, you will learn what Alcester really means. Just know that it means 'Master' to you, for now."  
"I understand." he got up. He was about to leave.  
"Mr. Finley?" her voice made him turn.

Douglass was dumbstruck by what he saw.  
Fifty year old Shanon Alcester was gone, replaced by a young girl in her twenties. The dress was the same, the pose was the same. But the tell-tale signs of wrinkles on her leg, hands and face was completely gone. Instead she had perfect smooth skin of a young girl. An a pretty face.  
Even despite her mature age, Shanon Alcester was a woman that men would fight over.  
At that moment Douglass realised that men would kill for Shanon at her young age.  
Her eyes tough. Her penetrating and strong eyes were the same. It looked so odd. Having such experienced and powerful gaze in such a young girl.

"Mr. Finley." she prompted.  
Douglass almost jumped, startled by her voice.  
There stood the fifty year old Shanon Alcester once again. She had a look on her face, it wasn't clear if she was confused by his odd stare or judging his reaction to something amiss.  
"Y-yes?" Douglass said, composing himself.  
He had no idea what just happened.  
"If you need to bring in help, do it. Also get whatever gadgets you would need. Jonah will give you the funds."  
"Okay."  
"Do not fail me, Douglass." she said.  
"I won't." he assured her, with a dumbstruck look on his face.  
And left.

=I=

They arrived at Colin's apartment. It was in the northern outskirts of the city cluster. This district was where the middle-folk lived. Several storey apartments and less high buildings existed in an ecosystem of their own. In time, one buildings would get demolished and replaced by a newer one. Wealth of the land-owner defined how many storeys the building would rise. Most of the time it wouldn't go up above three or four. But individual business-people made their lair in this less expensive part of the city.  
And their buildings make themselves known. They had door guards holding the door for incoming people and tinted windows instead of walls.

That was the modern design. All windows, no brick. Age of the metal buildings had came to the Guardian city. Less expensive buildings were made in the old fashion. Brick walls smarting like old geezers with their small windows.

Occasionally, nightclubs and bars dotted the cityscape. These were where young people went to part with their money and hopefully get some company for the night. Collage students from the university frequented this district for it's close proximity to the campus ground. As a result, there were many cafés that was inhabited by people in funny dresses and over-the-top hair styles that exclaimed "look at me, I am a collage genius".

Take all these and combine in the stores to the equation, and you would have a lively neighbourhood. Busy in the morning and drunk at night. And that suited Colin very much. He lived all alone. And God knows he didn't get any extensive company, except the ones he paid for. So living in a place full of people and life made him content.

"This place looks like a bad set from those shows I watch. All lively and happy." Ezro commented about the neighbourhood as he trailed behind Colin.  
Rain had stopped during the night and morning was well on it's way.  
"Yeah? You watch TV a lot." said Colin as a matter of fact.  
"I got nothing else to do. It's a great waste of time." Ezro replied.  
Unknown to Colin he was checking every person, every window and every corner in his sight. Possible shooters, possible firing positions, possible escape routes.  
People were walking about, carrying groceries, talking to their friends, playing with their phones, jogging.  
A guy disappeared in a corner when Ezro saw him. He wasn't able to discern any detail on him but one thing stuck in his mind. That the man was looking back at him.  
His gaze lingered on the corner that he disappeared, then let go.  
"Probably nothing." he thought.  
Colin was fighting with the metal door. He turned the key and pushed again and again. After the third try it let them in.  
The faint smell was the first thing Ezro sensed.  
"Leaking pipes?" he asked. There was a moss-like smell in the air.  
"Yeah, something like that. Place drips when it rains too hard."  
"Oh." said Ezro with realisation.  
He didn't bother to inform Colin of the man he suspected.  
"The guy is already on edge, better not make him worse." he thought.  
Inside the building were old stone stairs and walls with peeling paint.  
"Old building." said Ezro more to himself.  
Colin took it as a comment "Buildings been here long time. So, rent is cheap. Not like that fancy downtown suit of yours." joked Colin.

Ezro's apartment was a shithole by itself. Guardian City's Downtown District had two distinct places. Towers that meant business and cheap rental apartments around them. Ezro's flat was more expensive than Colin's student grade apartment but it had less space. That was how inner city was, extra due, minimal return.

"At least I don't suffer those noisy nightclubs." returned Ezro.  
In reality he wished he would suffer the nightclubs, for his own nightly encore of homeless people puking noises, cop sirens and someone getting their dick sucked in the alley was phenomenal to behold. It was worse when they woke him up in the middle of the night.  
"No more dick sucking after three!" he yelled many a times when that happened. Followed by a thrown beer bottle.

"You frequent those places?" he asked out of curiosity.  
"Me? No, not much." said Colin with an embarrassed voice.  
They reached Colin's apartment but he was reluctant to open it.  
"Come on." prompted Ezro.  
Colin still looked unsure.  
"What if someone was inside?"  
"Stealing your plush toys?" mocked Ezro.  
"Gathering evidence." said Colin with a whispering voice.  
"Then we ask them who they are." said Ezro.  
"Can you keep this serious?" growled Colin then realising his rising voice placed a reflexive hand on his mouth as if that would mask his already released sound blast.  
"I am serious. You are not." said Ezro pointing downward.  
Colin followed his finger to the door mattress.  
"No water, no mud."  
Ezro pointed to the door. Colin's gaze followed.  
"No forceful entry."  
"Now open it." he commanded.  
"Okay, okay." Colin pushed in the key.  
Ezro was standing towards the door frame, keeping himself safe despite everything. There was a million ways to invade a house, and he was taking no chances with Azrael in question.  
He pushed the door in before Colin could do it.  
"Maybe they did enter your house." Ezro said seeing the trashed room. There was lots of garbage on the floor, stuff was fallen and laid on the floor.  
"No, this is the normal state of my room." said Colin walking into the house all relaxed. Crunching pieces of chips onto the carpet as he walked.  
"Well? Let's see this video of yours then." prompted Ezro.

=I=

"Oh, there comes the champion of the streets." said the balding police officer as he saw Douglass entering the room.  
The police station was busy and from his windowed walls the hurrying officers were seen.  
"Hi, John." said Douglass sitting in a chair across his desk.  
"Hey, Doug. Have a seat." John mocked.  
"How is the chiefdom treating you?" asked Douglass.  
"You know, the usual. I sure miss the patrolling days. Sitting is hell on my back."  
"You can quit, I always need a helping hand." said Douglass.  
"No, no. Christina would kill me if I dump my paycheck to go adventuring."  
Douglass thought about that for a moment.

"I wouldn't call it adventuring. More like enduring the breath stench of people."  
"Wives and husbands with suspicions, eh?" said John with a grin.  
"Something like that." answered Douglass, his thought rolling over this new 'job' he got.  
"I need help, John." he said.  
"With what?" asked John, he had his glasses on reading a piece of paper he found on his desk.  
"Ever heard of Longwill?"  
John looked at him over his glasses.  
"I didn't. Where is that?"  
"Supposedly some town in the country."  
"Ah, I never cared about things outside the city."  
"Yeah, me neither. I thought maybe you heard it from your old folks."  
"Nah, my parents don't roam the land anymore. They sold the RV and went back to Israel."  
"Oh, they did? So how does the West suit them?" asked Douglass.  
"The usual. Low income, high taxes. Israel is going to turn East soon tough." he said.  
"Yeah, I bet they will." mocked Douglass.  
"You were talking about Longwill." prompted John, not wanting to get into politics.  
Not in his office anyway. You never would know who was listening in. And even harmless political opinions were dangerous these days.  
"Longwill." said Douglass as if the word itself was cursed.  
"I need someone with me on this one.".  
"A new job?" asked John.  
"Yes." answered Douglass.  
"Big job?"  
"Yes." he answered again.  
"Figures..." he said checking the location of Longwill from his phone.  
"Must be something important if you need to go all this way." he said when he saw the distance between the city and the Longwill.  
"I know. That's why I need backup. Someone I can trust. Hired help won't do."  
"I understand. But I can't come. You know how Christina is."

Douglass didn't look disappointed.  
"You knew my answer already." pointed John.  
"Yeah, that's why I need you to find me someone." Douglass grinned.  
"You son of a-" said John grinning back.

"I know you would not let your old partner without a backup." said Douglass.  
"For old time's sake." he added.  
John removed his glasses and placed them on his table atop a pile of documents.  
"You never told me why you quit the force, Doug."  
"No, I did. It was too much stress."  
"Oh, so that's the real reason." replied John sarcastically.  
When Douglass didn't reply he pressed further.  
"So being a private investigator is without stress I assume." he mocked before leaning forward "You roam those streets. Hell, you probably even go to that shithole Mass Housing District."  
Douglass was stressed.  
"Alone, I look after myself. I have the control, I decide when to go in, not some commissioner or..." he stopped.  
"Chief." completed John.  
"Sorry, I meant no offense."  
"Okay, Doug. Keep it to yourself. But this time you want me to hook you up with someone. If it was me I would go along willingly but I can't come. And I need to know details before I put my people in danger."  
"I understand. But I can't tell you." Douglass replied.  
Shannon Alcester's serious face swam in his mind for a second.  
John's face darkened.  
"You know my answer, Doug. I am sorry."  
"Okay, John. Thanks anyway." said Douglass sighing.  
He got up to leave.  
John looked after him as he walked to the door. He just couldn't let his old friend go. Douglass wouldn't ask if he really needed help. He had to do something.  
"Doug." he said finally.  
Douglass stopped with his hand on the door.  
"There is someone that can help you out."  
"You said you can't spare a cop." he said turning his head sideways inquisitively. He felt that something was coming up.  
"She's not a cop." replied John.  
"A civilian?" asked Douglass surprised.  
"Well..." John trailed.  
He ran a hand over his balding hair before producing a file from his desk.  
"This woman..." he was about to begin but Douglass cut him off.  
"A woman!" he said more than asking.  
"She is a true altruist." he explained.  
Douglass rose an eyebrow in reply.  
"What'd she do?" he asked when John frowned at him.  
"We discovered her a few years back, she saved a little kid from a fire in her neighbourhood."  
"So what, she's brave?" asked Douglass, still unsure if this woman would be of any use to him.  
"You are in for a treat, old Doug." smirked John handing a document to Douglass.

Douglass peered at the document quickly.  
"This woman. She somesort of ganger?" he asked.  
"Nope. Does boxing...and the like."  
"Okay, saving someone is one thing. But, how do I know she will keep it together when shit gets hot?" Douglass threw the document back on the table.  
"Sit." said John producing a glass and pouring himself a light brown liquid.  
"You allowed to drink in here?" asked Douglass raising an eyebrow as he sat down.  
"It's not alcohol, grape juice." said John, producing another glass.  
Douglass smelled the liquid before drinking the whole contents of the small glass.  
"God fucking damn!" he swore as John was laughing at his displeasure.  
His head and mouth burned as the liquor went down.  
"You say this thing has no alcohol?"  
"Nope, zero percent."  
"It tastes like gasoline."  
"Sure it does, brewed."  
Douglass looked at him.  
"So it has alcohol."  
John shrugged.  
"More chem brewed than alcohol brewed." he gave a lame explanation.  
"So about this girl." Douglass prompted as his mouth still tasted like rotten grapes.  
John leaned back on his chair, his belly fat showing itself over the police uniform, making a bump.  
"My niece, you know her?" he began.  
"No, can't say that I do."  
"Laurane. She is seventeen now. You know it's a lot harder to be young these days. Lot's of bad influence."  
Douglass watched him indifferently as he kept talking.  
"She got hooked with some bad friends. At first it was a little partying, then it turned into full on drugs."  
"Eventually she had a fight with my sister and ran from home. I tracked her down to those filthy drug dens of the Mass Housing District."  
"Why didn't you tell me all this before?" asked Douglass.  
"You had a lot on your mind back then." he looked at Douglass, judging his temper.  
"Anyway, I phoned this woman. She came by and I told her of Laurane's situation."  
Douglass didn't mind as John poured again.  
"Look at me, Doug. I sure as hell wasn't going to that hellhole of a place. Not the Mass Housing, no. So she went there. She found Laurane and brought her back."  
Douglass gulped down his glass, this time it burned less.  
John leaned closer.  
"I think you and her are going to get along just fine." he had a wide grin on his face.


	4. MoL : 4

-4-

It was the end of another long day. The classes just kept on going until she felt exhausted in the head. When you add in the homework she got, the long day would become a long night.  
She kept walking as fast as she could. If only she could get into the house and drink something hot.

There was no one home waiting for her. Her family stayed back in Iran when she migrated after the War of 2013. World War 3 people called it. But it was simply hell. She wanted those memories deep down where they would never surface.  
Never again.

She got admitted into the New Eastern university when she aced the application test. After she started her licence and rocketed into her masters degree in Ancient Mesopotamian Studies, she became a favourite student of the professors. She had the intellect and the social skills to rise up easily in the academic circles.

University funded her well and she had the chance to find a low-rent flat in the Sculptor district. This was where the life was. Not so strict as Downtown and not crime ridden like the Mass Housing. Sculptor district was the northern cluster of the Guardian City.

All her collage friends lived there. They grouped up to rent flats of their own. The prices were reasonable in this part of the city and also it was closer to the New Eastern University district. One bus and you were at the collage. It also contained many bars, cafés and nightclubs to keep their young spirits entertained.

She walked and walked, one street blurring into another. She felt dead tired. Her backpack felt ever heavier as she moved forward.  
Omar proposed to walk her home but she flatly refused. Aisha hated when a boy gets so sticky. Enough was enough.  
Her mind raged at the thoughts as she kept going. She would have realised the group of men that follow her if she wasn't raging at Omar. But she missed it entirely.

The street was filled with tall old brick buildings on both sides and it went on like a corridor. She was finally about to reach her house when she heard a call.  
"Hey, sweet. Want to have some fun?"  
In the instant there were two guys walking beside her. She was dumbstruck. Being so concentrated on her own life she completely missed the present.  
"No." she replied and quickened her steps.  
Just a few buildings more and she was home.

She felt a hand on her arm.  
"Hey, come on. Don't be like that." said one of the guys.  
When she finally took a look at them she realised that they were gangers. Scum of the streets. Her heart choked with hear and her hand instinctively reached for the folding knife in her pocket. Her action went unnoticed. She tried freeing her arm from the ganger's strong grip but she wasn't strong enough to break free. She tried anyways.  
Her muscles ached when she bruised herself in the attempt. His grip was still tight around her.  
"Let go." she said.  
Ganger grinned in reply.  
"We just want some fun, know what I mean? Come on, be a good girl here." he said.  
"No, let my arm go!" her voice rose.  
Having Omar right now seemed like a good idea.  
"Who am I kidding, he would probably piss himself." her mind blew the thought away.

"You probably do it all the time, come on just one favor." said the ganger as he squeezed her arm.  
It hurt more, now that she bruised it. She made a shriek of pain through her teeth. Her nail flipped the folding knife open in her pocket.

Ganger saw her knife as she brought it out from her pocket. The other two gangers weren't able to see the knife and kept watching as their boss held the girl in his grip.  
Boss ganger tried to grab her wrist to stop the knife but Aisha simply moved her hand away and prevented the hold.

Another ganger was wise on the situation and closed in behind Aisha with the hope of stopping her from struggling. He managed to grab her arms from behind.  
"Bitch has a knife." said the boss ganger.

Third ganger was only watching the two brutish guys struggling to keep the girl in place. She trashed around and tried to break free.  
"Help! Someone!" she shouted.  
Boss ganger looked behind and saw a dark alley that led far.  
"Behar, get her here." he said to the ganger holding Aisha in his grip.  
If only she could break free. But the ganger was a strong man and Aisha wasn't able to squirm away. She had taken personal defense classes and she knew how to use her knife. Her maniac instructor even brought them a pig carcass to stab, just so they would know what the real thing is like. Instructions and lessons were one thing, reality was another.

She was able to move her arm and took this last chance to slash at the guy holding her. She was no knife fighter but she put all her effort into the blow.  
Ganger however was well versed in knife fighting. He had spent years stabbing people and preventing harm.  
He moved his head back and dodged the blow easily.

"Come on bring her in here." said the boss ganger. He had let Aisha's arm go when he saw that Behar, the other ganger, was handling the job easily.  
"I told you she won't put much of a fight." said the third ganger as he eyed Aisha up and down.  
"Let me go!" Aisha screamed again.  
She wasn't able to fight back or break free. Her mind was completely blank as the ganger forced her into the alley.

She struggled with all her being but it was futile. Gangers brought her into the alley and threw her over a garbage pile.  
"My boyfriend will be here soon. So leave now." she lied in an attempt to scare them.  
"Uh, is he really?" asked one of the gangers to the boss.  
"Of course not you dumb fuck. She is lying." replied the boss.  
"No I am not, he was supposed to meet me here. He is from a gang." she lied again.  
But her lie was a bad one and they simply saw through it.  
"Now little girl. Don't make any trouble and it's going to be over quickly, okay?" said boss ganger with a smile.  
"No!" Aisha shouted back.  
Three gangers came around her, she kicked and trashed. She tried stabbing them but her knife was missing.  
She had no idea where was it. It must have flew away in the chaos of the assault.

Her eyes filled with tears and streaked down her cheek. She was punching and kicking but it was no use. She felt a hand groping her breast as she trashed.  
"Let me go!" she roared.  
How can this be? After all that she went through. The riots, the war, the migration. And this was how it was going to be? Getting raped in an alley?  
She survived all that hell of her past, just to suffer through this. It just wasn't acceptable. Such cruel fate.  
Hands moved over her clothes and she felt her pants came off.  
"Oh, God! It really was happening. This must be a nightmare!" her mind roared in pain as she felt being touched.

Her senses shut off. She was only able to see the blur of her assailants through her tears and her hearing was muffled in shock.  
She screamed illegible words in growls as she tried to fight back.  
But suddenly she stopped feeling the hands. She wasn't sure what happened but they stopped touching her.

She lifted her head and saw her assailants standing over her, looking at the entrance of the alley.  
There was someone at the mouth of the alley.

Her hearing came back. She was shaking violently and sniffed hard as mucus rained down from her nose as she cried away.  
"Go away before you get hurt." boss ganger was saying to someone.  
"I told you to run, you lowlife piece of shit. While you still can." came back a voice.  
Aisha wasn't sure if it was a man's voice or not.

She wiped her tears onto her wrist and saw that her pants was off. Luckily they weren't able to went too far and she still had her underwear on. Her hand grabbed something, anything, from nearby. She didn't know what it was but she would use it to bash at their skulls when they come back.

One of the gangers looked unsure about this whole deal now that someone had caught them on the job.  
Finally Aisha's vision cleared enough so she could see everything.  
A tall figure stood at the entrance of alley, he wore a sports-hoodie. Those comfortable and baggy ones. He also had a matching sports-pants and sneakers. He had a bag too but it was laying on the sidewalk, thrown away when he heard the commotion.

"Let her go, or I will fuck your shit up." came his voice.  
Aisha wanted to shout but her muscles aches from stress and sadness. She grabbed her pants and pulled it over her legs slowly. She was still laying on a mound of garbage bags full of smelling household dump. But her shock of attack had locked her senses and she was pumped with adrenaline.

"You know who we are asshole? We are the Mob Brethren." said the boss, showing off a tattoo in his arm.  
Aisha saw the figure approach the trio of gangers.  
"Shut the fuck up and leave. Now!" he roared at the gangers.  
One of the gangers moved away from his friends and went towards the wall with hopes of leaving.

Boss ganger looked at the figure before him and judged from experience that this person was a big problem.  
"Well, uh. Maybe we should..." he began.  
The third gangster wasn't that smart. He was braver, but not smarter.

"Listen here you fucker. We the Brethren you hear?" he said walking towards the figure.  
He saw the blows coming but he was too slow to react.  
Two blows landed on his chest and blew the wind out of him. He exhaled hard as the strong punches struck.  
He wasn't able to make a move before the figure came out in a flurry of blows. His fists blew on his chest, his face and his neck.  
Ganger jerked sideways as he fainted onto the ground.  
Hoodie figure stood over the lying ganger and nodded to the other gangers.  
"Take him and get the fuck out of here."

"Yes." replied the boss ganger. He was shaking in fear. They dragged their fainted Brethren out of the alley and disappeared.

Figure watched them go, making sure that they did not tried any backstabbing tricks as they went.  
Then he moved to Aisha directly.  
"Are you okay?"  
Aisha was still crying and pulling back drooling mucus into her nose.  
"Okay? Okay? I was being raped!" she wanted to scream but a muffed groan was the only thing that came out her mouth.  
She looked at the figures face and realised that he was a she.  
Hoodie-figure was a not-so-beautiful woman. She had several scar marks on her face resulting from fighting and even without them her face would not strike one as pretty.  
She looked hell of a tough though.  
"T-thank y..." Aisha managed to say.

Woman had gathered Aisha's belongings and fixed her clothing. Luckily the gangers weren't manage to harm her physically.  
Aisha's clothing only had torn holes and heavily wrinkled cloth as if the whole deal was nothing more than a petty accident.  
"Let's get you up and bring you home, shall we?" the woman asked kindly. Her voice wasn't womanly but there was tinge of sincerely in it.  
She helped Aisha got up and then pulled her hoodie over her head.  
Aisha saw that she had short cut hair. Almost bald. Under her hoodie she was wearing a sleeveless white shirt. Aisha was dumbstruck when she saw the muscles on the woman.  
It was no wonder she managed to down a ganger within several blows.  
Woman dressed Aisha with her hoodie and despite the cool weather kept standing around in her shirt.

"Who-who..." Aisha managed.  
Woman smiled "Ladlow. Let's get going. Everything is going to be okay." she said.  
"A-aisha." she replied.  
Ladlow helped her out of the alley and grabbed her sports bag along the way.

"Where'd? They go?" asked Aisha feeling dazed.  
"Forget about them. You're okay now. It's over."  
"No..." Aisha shook her head.  
"I want them found. I want them caught." she started crying again.  
"Shhh. It's okay. Everything is over now." Ladlow said placing her head on her chest.  
Aisha found her chest warm and secure. After everything she went through this simple warmth felt very good.  
"No, I want them found." repeated Aisha in hysteria.  
"They're gangsters, Aisha. Even if the cops catch them, prison is just a second home to them. It's better to just let go." she comforted.  
"Allah curse them. Fucking sons of whores!" she growled as tears streaked down her face.  
"They didn't hurt you, do they?" Ladlow asked looking her up and down.  
Aisha didn't had any cuts or lacerations on her so Ladlow decided it was fine.  
"Luckily they only hurt your pride, let's get you home." she said as she led Aisha away from the alley.

-I-

The video was shorter this time. It only showed where Azrael did his trick and everyone started dying.  
"That wasn't the whole thing, but I couldn't find the same file. It's odd." Colin said.  
Ezro looked thoughtful.  
"Was that guy you were looking for?" asked Colin realising his silence.  
Ezro nodded.  
"That was Azrael alright."

"Who is he?"  
"He was a guerilla leader when I was in Pakistan during The War."  
"The War? You mean the war of 2013. You fought in 2013?"  
"Sure did. My last deployment. Quit when the countries stopped bombing each other. It was mess."  
"Wow. I saw videos but..."  
"He killed a lot of my men. We didn't know how back then. Troopers were just found in their trenches all rotted and bloated, without a single bullet hole on them."  
"Chemicals!" exclaimed Colin.  
"What?"  
"Chemical weapons. Or radiation weapons. You saw what he did, what he looked like."  
"Yeah." admitted Ezro then raised an eyebrow.

"What he looked like?" he asked.  
"He had grey skin. He is clearly a Grey. One of them." explained Colin.  
"Them?"  
"Them! One of the greys, agents of the Overlords."  
"Okay you just lost me." said Ezro shaking a head.  
"They are controlling the mankind through these cloned agents. Azrael is one of them. He used advanced space science to kill all those people."  
"Advanced...what?" asked Ezro, he was confused by all this barrage of nonsense.  
Colin sighed in reply. He was about to start explaining in detail but Ezro stopped him.  
"It doesn't matter. We don't know where he is. My work is done." he said and turned to leave.

"No, wait. Maybe we can look into these files. Find where he is. Come on don't leave. Our work has just started." said Colin enthusiastically.  
"Our work?" asked Ezro.  
"Yes. You and I. We will uncover what these files mean. Then we will track the overlords to their lair. Maybe even find this Grey Azrael."  
"You were crying about some guys following you a few hours ago. Now you want to invade someone's base?"  
"I wasn't crying." said Colin turning sideways to hide his lying expression.  
"I was merely reacting. Yes. This must be one of their defense mechanisms. The video will put anyone into shock so they would not pursue it."  
"It didn't put me in a shock." pointed out Ezro smirking.  
Colin frowned at him "Well, you haven't seen the whole thing."  
"Still, there must somekind of information on Azrael here." he added, typing and clicking to find a trace on the database.

He understood about computer security and realised that an attack on such a secretive server would already be detected and defense measurement would be taken.  
Hell, that's how they found his house in the first place.  
"Something is wrong." he said as he realised this obvious point.  
"What?" asked Ezro looking out the window.  
"I still have access to the database. Connection should have been severed and fixed by now. Unless they don't bother or they let me in."  
"No wait. Maybe this is not their database I'm seeing."  
He traced the connection and found that part of database was copied to his hard drive. He actually had the data in his possession, which also made him broke several dozen cyber-security laws.  
He wasn't able to copy this much data onto his phone or a usb stick so he copied the content to another server he had on another country.  
"That should keep them safe if anyone gets this PC." he thought.  
Then he returned his hunt through the data files. Most of the files were information about people and places. Old agent records. Country information. Blackmail data on powerful people.  
Lots of things that could be a treasure some other time, but right now he needed to find data on Azrael or Ezro would leave him. And the people after him will surely capture him.

"Who's after you anyway?" asked Ezro as he grabbed a cup of coffee from Colin's kitchen.  
"Secret agents, who else? Damn Overlords and their servants. They actually came to my house. I barely evaded them and escaped from the fire stairs."  
Ezro looked out the kitchen window where the metal fire escape was. They were in the second storey.  
"He wouldn't even break his arm if he jumped out the window." Ezro thought.  
He lifted his head and saw two yellow eyes peering at him from atop the kitchen shelves.  
"Hmpf." snorted Ezro and drank his coffee as he was still looking at the cat.  
Cat stared back at him without blinking.  
When he was done drinking, he walked into Colin's living room.  
"There's a cat in your kitchen." he informed.  
"Yes, that's Mystery." said Colin dismissively as he was fixated on the screen.  
"Hmph" was Ezro's response again.

Colin wasn't able to find anything else on this Azrael character. There were lots of important files but none of them pointed to Azrael.  
"Found anything?" asked Ezro.  
"There are lots of stuff here. Even if there were something it would take time to sort through all the data."  
"So you didn't found anything." concluded Ezro.  
"Well, when you put it that way." replied Colin cocking his head sideways.

Screen went black.  
"What the..." Colin began but cut short when a white mask appeared on the screen.  
He was so shocked that he got up from his chair and walked a few steps back, as if the screen could attack him.  
Ezro looked at him oddly.  
"What's up?" he asked.  
"The screen, something..." Colin managed before he was cut off.  
"Hello Colin." a robotic voice came from the PC speakers.  
Colin was dumbstruck.

The white mask had half of it's face covered in black. It also had two peculiar moles on his face. A white one above his lip on the black side on the face. And a black one below the eye on the white side.

"A friend of yours?" asked Ezro nodding to the screen.  
"No. Who are you?" asked Colin. His voice was filled with dread.  
"We talked before, Colin."  
Colin shook his head.  
"I am Mr. No-One." replied the white mask on the screen.  
"Oh. But what are you...?" he tried asking, he was too confused to form coherent sentences.  
White mask ignored his mumbling and turned to Ezro.  
"Hello Ezro." he said.  
Ezro's disinterested expression turned serious as he lowered the coffee mug he was draining.  
"Do we met?" he asked.  
"No, not yet anyway. But I need your help."  
"Mine?" asked Ezro suspiciously.  
"Both. Both of you." said Mr No-One.  
"You need our help? But you are the greatest hacker on earth. What can we do to help you?" asked Colin.  
He was going between the dread of his personal life being invaded and the shock of meeting a celebrity you adore.

White mask had no facial expressions but the head cocked sideways in a humble dismiss of his flattering speech.  
"Greatest hacker?" asked Ezro.  
"I contacted him to get this video, I wasn't sure how but he managed to do it. Somehow." said Colin trying to explain the situation to Ezro.  
Ezro didn't care.  
"And why does this hacker know me? What do you want?" he asked bluntly.  
Colin was about to make a sound when Mr. No-One cut in.  
"Ezro, I looked at your records. They're quite impressive. I need a job get done." said the robotic voice.  
"I don't do jobs." replied Ezro.

Colin was simply shocked. Mr. No-One himself had presented himself to them and Ezro had flatly refused him without even listening to his offer.  
"Oh? You don't then." said the white mask.  
"No, no. Mr. No-One he was just waiting for an offer. He didn't mean..." Colin tried to patch things up.  
With Mr. No-One's favor one would be able to dodge any problem and Colin was mired in trouble right now. It would be good to have someone strong on his side for a change.  
It was Mr. No-One's program that got him in this mess but he was the one using it. Agents would hold him responsible for the breach on their security.  
"Colin, Ezro. We don't have much time. I need you to find something of interest to me. I need you to go to town of Longwill."  
"I'm not going anywhere." replied Ezro.  
"I will provide what you seek, Ezro. Just keep that in mind." said the mask.  
"Longwill?" asked Colin, he had no idea where that was.  
White mask nodded when he heard the word.  
"I will contact you soon. Now I must go. Remember, when you hear the call of the valkyrja, respond kindly." Mr. No-One said and the screen went black again.  
They looked at the blank screen in silence.  
"What does that even mean?" asked Colin, looking at Ezro for an answer.  
Ezro took another sip from his coffee.

A metallic ticking sound came from the apartment corridor.  
"You heard that?" asked Colin turning and looking at the still half-open door.  
Ezro nodded in response and drew his S&W M586 revolver as he put down the mug.  
Colin felt his neck tighten up as he saw the gun. He managed to held his fear in check and looked to the door as Ezro moved to it.  
Ezro's sidearm chambered .38 special rounds. He had brought the Western pistol with him when he came back East, it's ammo was cheaper than it's Eastern counterparts, now that West-Dollars had lost value greatly after 2013.  
Unless the Eastern Federal State imposed a ban on Western goods he would be using this reliable pistol.  
His 586 had a blued steel barrel and did not shone silvery like other models. Instead it had a matted barrel which made it less susceptible to light glints, that made it easier to avoid detection.

He took a peek from the corner and saw two men in suits walk down the corridor.  
Ezro should have noticed the silenced Beretta 92s they carried. But he missed it looking at their face, trying to discern who they are.  
They had their silenced Berettas semi-concealed as they held them behind their hips.  
"They're coming this way." warned Ezro.  
But he was spotted. Both men saw him and readied their pistols in response.  
Ezro had his back to the door frame, making the whole corridor his shooting range.

Colin had to see these guys for himself, he moved before Ezro, brushing past his chest as he tried to stay in cover.  
When he saw the two heavy built men pacing down the corridor, Colin's heart aches in terror. He completely missed the pistols they were packing.  
He could have warned Ezro but he was too busy as his mind turmoil in fear.  
"Oh God, oh god." he muttered as he took several steps back into the room and looked around wildly for some means of escape.  
His eyes locked on the window.  
"Fire escape." he realised.  
He ran to the window and opened it. He was about to jump out onto the catwalk but then he realised the chain holding the metal grit-door locked.  
"Fuck!" he swore as he grabbed the chain helplessly.  
He rattled it as if it would just come loose, it didn't.  
He heard snippeting sound of silenced gunfire and ducked instinctively.

Door frame Ezro was covering behind blew as two shots landed on it, one round stuck into the wood while other blew in and scratched Ezro's arm with a whizzing sound.  
Suit men had fired six shots in total, rest of them blowing cement from the walls around Ezro.  
Ezro felt his arm sting as skin ripped and cooked as the hot bullet passed over it.  
There was no blood, the round had cauterized the flesh wound instantly.  
He was under fire before, when he was serving. And would not break even when undergunned as it is.  
He had six rounds in his sturdy M586. Three bullets for each suit.  
Ezro was just hoping they weren't wearing vests for his bullets were hollow-points. Special thirty-eights would stop any thug he usually went up against. But these guys looked professional. One that would pack better equipment than bill-runners and tax-jumpers.  
He broke cover and shot at the guy on the right.

His revolver fired once, catching the suit man in the side of his hip.  
Colin jumped in place when he heard the loud gunfire bang and echo in the tight roomspace.  
He looked inside the window and saw Ezro as he took cover back into the door frame.  
"You hurt?" he asked.  
Ezro shook a head in reply. He was too fixated in the combat.  
When the shot suit man recoiled from the shock of the moment both men broke sideways and took whatever cover they can get from nearby doors.  
"Help me get this door unlocked." Colin said the Ezro.  
His conversation was cut short when silent gunfire snapped at Ezro again.

Ezro grunted as a round flew past his leg, shearing the cloth and flesh away.  
In return he broke cover and shot the suit man he shot before. Man dropped onto the floor, bullet had penetrated into his guts.  
He shouted in pain as his partner looked at him without leaving cover.  
Colin grabbed a piece of metal wiring from his table and started fiddling with the lock on the chain.  
It was a crude lockpick but he felt one pin click into place. Feeling euphoric, he kept going.

The still standing suit men wasn't able to move into the corridor for fear of getting shot.  
"Police! Lay down your arms!" he shouted instead as his friend squirmed on the ground with pain.  
"Yeah, right. Cops with silencers." Ezro mocked to himself.  
"Last warning!" came the voice.  
"Go fuck yourself!" shouted Ezro back.

Colin felt a satisfaction as the lock clicked open and fell onto the catwalk with a cling.  
"Let's go." he said to Ezro.  
Ezro was slow to react and felt a bullet cut through his shoulder, he lunged at the window and they raced down the steps.  
Catwalk groaned in metal fury as they violently jumped down the stairs and hurried downward.

They were running out of the street when a black car screeched in front of them and stopped, almost slamming into them.  
Several armed men came out, guns aimed at them.  
"Hands in the air!" shouted one of them.  
Ezro and Colin looked at each other.  
"Drop the gun, drop it now!" another shout.  
For a second Ezro looked uncertain to comply, but then his 86 clattered on the road.


	5. MoL : 5

-5-

"There it is." she kept pointing to a building that was a several storey parking lot.  
Ladlow looked at it again then back at Aisha, she wasn't able to see something resembling of a house.  
"That's just a parking lot. Not your house."  
Aisha blinked the tears in her eyes again, then squinted to see through them. When she saw the lifting gate that led cars into the garage, her expression turned to confusion.  
"It was supposed to be there."  
Ladlow decided that she was still in shock.  
"What street was it?" she asked.  
"Fifth."  
"We are on seventh." she informed, reading off a road sign nearby.  
Aisha looked around all dazed.  
"You must took a wrong turn somewhere." she said and half dragged Aisha away.

=I=

They reached her flat and Ladlow placed Aisha on the couch and went into the kitchen to make something hot.  
Kitchen was in a mess and all she managed to whip up was coffee.  
"Good enough." she thought as she prepared it.

Aisha was laying on the couch. Her tears had ran dry and now only felt as sticky lines on her cheeks and nose.  
Her mind kept returning to the alley.  
She still felt their touch.  
Their breath on her skin.  
She felt disgusted by her skin for a moment and tears returned.  
So did Ladlow.  
When she saw her coming, Aisha wiped her tears and took a seating position.  
She managed to take a good look at her saviour now that her tears were out of the way.  
Ladlow was well built. She wasn't extremely muscled like those protein-pumped-gym-farts. Her muscles were made to work. They were thick and well spread to her limbs, making her look leaner than she is.  
"Ladlow." she said, her name was almost etched into her brain.  
"Hmm?" Ladlow prompted as she handed her the cup.  
"I'm grateful that you helped me out there. Others would just walk by, not wanting to get into trouble."  
"It's nothing. I've had my share of trouble with that Mob Brethren myself." she had a dismissive expression on her face.

Ladlow wasn't one to take a lot of credit for what she did. For she only did it, if it felt right. She had her own idea of 'good' and it was quite simple. Fight against anything you felt that was evil. Keep your opinion of others to yourself. And don't cause needless trouble, for there is always a bigger fish that would cause a lot of trouble on you.  
Especially in the city. Mob Brethren and the like felt that they own the streets. But in reality they were just cannon-fodder for the endless gang wars and crime.  
There was a complex and over-arching hierarchy within the city that encompassed all the citizens. From the penniless hobos to the more privileged citizens.  
And Ladlow knew to stay out of such conflict whereever she can.

Aisha took the offered coffee and drank it. She felt the hot drink calm her senses as bit, but there was still something missing in her chest. Ladlow lift-carried a wooden chair and sat down, facing Aisha.  
"What do you do?" she asked.  
"Me? I'm a wrestler. The professional kind, not that show-biz." replied Ladlow.  
"Figures." Aisha replied trying to smile but her saddened eyes turned it into a manic looking expression instead.  
"Are you okay, now?" asked Ladlow.  
Aisha nodded "I'm better, thanks to you."  
"Those damn sons of bitches. I would crack open more their heads for turning these streets into cages for their crime." she said making a fist.  
"I need to make a complaint. They can't get away with this." Aisha said.  
Ladlow shook her head.  
"They are just waste, Aisha. You can go to the police but it might make you a target if they got caught. Even if they get sentenced they would be back in the streets with a year."  
"But..." she stood for a moment "...I must."  
"You must. But you shouldn't." replied Ladlow.  
Aisha sat back and let in all sink in.  
Her attempted rapists would just walk away. Just like that.  
Unless she did something.  
"You know what? I shouldn't even be saying my judgement on this. You must do what you fell is right." said Ladlow.  
"Thanks, I'll decide later. For now I want peace."  
"Right. I dropped your things over by the door." Ladlow said rising from the chair.  
"You're leaving?" asked Aisha also rising.  
"I have to. I have a night-shift. I can't be late."  
"I didn't know wrestlers had night-shift." joked Aisha, more to look sympathetic than being funny.  
"It's not..." she began saying in an exhausted voice, for some reason her butcher work felt derogatory to talk about for now.  
She had quickly realised that Aisha was a collage goer and they would never met if it wasn't for her attack. She felt ashamed to explain the situation to her.  
"It's work." she concluded.  
"Will you be back?" asked Aisha.  
"Well, do you need my help?" asked Ladlow.  
"I do. Please come back when you are done."  
Ladlow really did not had the heart to reject her.  
"Alright, I'll be back later on."  
Aisha smiled and lunged forward.  
She kissed Ladlow.  
Ladlow's first instinct was to break free or even punch her. Years of training and conditioning in combat set her instincts to react violently when shocked.  
Her neurons fired with instinctive reaction but she kept them in check and let her continue the kiss for a little longer, before grabbing Aisha by the arms and broke their kiss.  
Aisha's face had turned red.  
"I'm-I'm sorry." she said embarrassed.  
"It's okay. But I'm not...you know." replied Ladlow and let her go.  
"You won't be back now." said Aisha defeated. She had blew her chance with someone who cared.  
"No. I will." said Ladlow and left.

Aisha sat on the couch to herself. She didn't know why she kissed her. She never had homosexual urges before.  
She had imagined what it was like and probably could get into bed someone if she wished to, but she never acted in such a way.  
Then why now?  
She felt the horrid truth behind her action. She wanted to get rid of the sense of her rape. She wanted to purge them from her mind.  
The pressure of their touch, the heat of their lips on her skin. Getting off those feeling and replacing it was something else.  
Aisha always had a lustful side but it never manifested in such a way.  
She sat there with the hot cup in her hands.  
She had no want to drink it but felt the soothing warmth of it in her hands. Just wanted to sat there, and hopefully she might sleep the problem away.

=I=

They put a large overfilled file on the desk before him. He measured it with his eyes before looking up to the guy sitting before him.  
He was a well built man with brunette hair. His face had the distinct feature of being completely boring. His dark grey suit made him look uglier than he is.  
"You got quite the record, Delano." said the guy in the suit.  
Ezro shrugged in response.  
"I really can't say what you mean." he said to mud things up.  
"I mean you served much. A lot of places. A lot of people."  
When Ezro didn't respond the suit guy continued.  
"You enlisted in the 95 crisis?" he said. It wasn't clear if it was a question or not.

"That a question?" asked Ezro just to piss him off.  
Suit guy glared at him.  
"I did."  
"Which side?" asked the suit guy, it was already written in there but he wanted to hear it said.  
"Isn't it already written there?" asked Ezro smirking.  
One of the bodyguards in a suit behind him came next to him and planted a strong punch in his stomach.  
Ezro grunted under the blow and bent forward.

"Only answers now, Delano." said the suit guy.  
Ezro looked up to him, frowning.  
"East." he said.  
"Now that's better." said the suit guy without looking at him, he was reading a piece of paper he found in the file.  
"You supported East then?"  
"I enlisted because I was out of work." Ezro said. He hated when someone simply put him in with one of the two political bunch.  
"Everyone did." replied the suit.

He read the next page and was interested. He forced his shock away from his face and kept his expression straight.  
"Also in 2013." he said as a matter of fact.  
Ezro didn't respond. Suit guy looked up at him.  
"Yes. I was already serving so I said what the hell." replied Ezro.

The interrogation room was partially dark. There was a one sided glass on one wall and a metal door on the other. The metal table was fitted to the ground and his shackles were chained to it.  
Even their metal seats were bolted down.  
Worse, the room was kept cold to unease the subject. Simple interrogation techniques were always the best.

"5th MidEast Infantry Battalion." said the interrogator.  
"Must have seen quite the action. Where were you deployed?" he asked.  
"Pakistani Line." replied Ezro.  
"Really?" asked the interrogator, he looked at his papers for confirmation.  
"That's one of the hot-zones, was it not?"  
"It was. Westerners pushed through India to get to Iran and their holdings. We were directly on their path of invasion."  
"I heard of it. I also heard that you did well." he said without looking at him.  
Ezro just nodded.

"It's good that you fought in The War." said the suit guy nodding to himself.  
Ezro thought of an answer to the question but then realised it wasn't one.  
"Good for what?" he asked.  
His question was completely ignored.  
Suit guy gathered the large file and got up. He waited at the door facing the metal surface while the guards on the outside opened it and let him out.  
Ezro was left with two bodyguards behind him. He cranked his neck to check on them. He was half expecting a good beatdown to begin. He didn't know the reason though.  
He had no idea what was going on here.

A woman entered the room, wearing yet another boring dark grey suit. She had another file in her hands.  
"What's up with the suits and the files? Are you somesort of fetish cult?" asked Ezro.  
"Mr. Delano, they said you were problematic to speak with but you should know that it is in your best interest to talk straight to me." she said, sitting down.  
Ezro looked at her up and down. He realised that this woman was someone higher-up than that ballbuster that just left.  
"Are you the Agency then? Am I being charged" he asked.  
"No, we are not the Agency. In fact, Eastern Federal Agency does not even know we exist." she said looking at him with piercing eyes.

"You must be something special then. Since you can pull those military service records." Ezro said with a well assumption.  
She looked at him with one eyebrow raised.  
"Very good, Mr. Delano. Can I call you Ezro?" she asked with a smile that did not reach her eyes.  
It was a fake sympathy act.  
"By all means, do." replied Ezro. Behind his polite response was the full realisation that she was playing him with both sweet and bitter.

It was an old interrogation technique. You forced the person into obedience with harshness and pulled them on a string to your cause with gentle words.  
A simple system that exercised the treat-versus-punishment technique that was used on dogs.

"You know my name but I don't know yours." added Ezro.  
"Call me Jan." she said.

Ezro also realised that underneath her suit she wore a skin-tight body-glove that was worn by special forces on operations. The expensive ones vented sweat off the skin and kept the wearer at body temperature. It wasn't exactly comfortable but it was useful. But underneath a suit, it showed itself off in the joints. Especially the elbow was sticking out.

"You were back from an operation, I take it." said Ezro looking at her suit.  
"We did. We were trying to capture some fugitives. One particular asshole managed to shot one of my men." she said looking directly into his eyes.  
It was unnerving but Ezro returned the stare with cold eyes of his own.  
"You people shot first. So no shame on my part." he responded.

"He is fine, anyway." she said returning her attention to the file before her. "He had worse." she added under her breath.  
She waited for a time and Ezro looked to the side, his attention waned for a moment.  
"Ezro." she said suddenly looking up.  
Ezro snapped back at her.  
"We want you to work for us on a certain project." she said.  
"Project?"  
She nodded.  
"We are ready to disregard your transgression on our organization but first I must know if you are willing to work for us."  
"I take it this is where I say 'yes'?" Ezro asked.  
"Look, Ezro. We are the good guys. So yes, you are to say 'yes'." she replied leaning forward slightly.  
"Good guys?" smirked Ezro.  
"Good as you're going to get." she snapped back. Her face concrete.  
"Do I at least get to know what's going on?"

"We need you to recover a certain item for us."  
"Item, huh." said Ezro, he tried remembering what that guy on the screen said.  
Something about a Longhill? Or was it Longdrill? Probably something long...  
"Fuck, I never get these things right." he thought as he kept a straight face.  
"It is located in a small town outside the city. You are to go to town of Longwill..."  
"...Longwill...yes...that's what it was..." thought Ezro as the obvious reminder made him remember.

"...and retrieve an item of importance."  
"And this item would be?"  
"It's the Longwill."

"Well, I need fifteen trucks and a worker crew of fifty people." said Ezro leaning backwards and smirking.  
"What are you talking about?" she asked shaking her head.  
"How do I carry a town?" he said, spreading both hands.

"Longwill is the name of the scripture we require." she said.  
"Oh."  
"You've never heard of the scriptures of Longwill, by any chance?" she asked, producing a piece of paper from her file.

She slided a paper on the table towards him. It came to a stop after a spin. Ezro leaned forward and fixed the paper with a hand.  
It was an image of a very old book. Calling it a book would do disservice to it. It was a mighty tome. All leather bound and with a brass lock on it.  
The tome looked very old and worn.  
"It's the Longwill scripture."  
"And why is it important?" asked Ezro.  
"It is very precious to our organization, we need to have it."  
"Why don't send your brute-faces here to get it?" said Ezro nodding at the bodyguards behind him.

"We need undercover agents for this one." she said.  
"I am no agent."  
"You are capable. And loyal, when motivated that is." she replied.

"I am not motivated." Ezro said.  
In response she slided another paper towards him.  
It was data file on a man. A clear faced young man.

"Corporal John Nathan. Fifth Eastern MidEast Battalion." she began.  
"He never saw his daughter's seventh birthday." she said indifferently.  
Ezro looked at the picture with sadness written across his face.  
She threw another file before him.  
"Private Lars Korben. Fifth MidEast. Had a wedding with his lovely fiancée, if he had returned." she said.  
Another file.  
"Private Dolgorukov. Fifth. Never returned to his mother back home."  
Another file.  
"Private Amada. Never returned to her husband. Or her child."  
Another file.  
"Private Ruslan..."  
"Enough." said Ezro.  
"All of them and more killed by the Azrael. Murdered in..."  
"I said enough!" he banged a fist on the metal table.

Two bodyguards moved into motion but Jan held up a hand to arrest them.  
They went back into shadows. Standing by.

"What do you want?" Ezro asked with a red face, full of anger.  
"What do YOU want?" she asked back, closing the file and sliding it to the side slowly.  
"Azrael." Ezro gritted his teeth.  
"Indeed. A murderer that is." she said.  
"You know him." said Ezro.  
She wasn't quite sure if it was a question or a fact. But it was a fact. She did know him.  
"He is working for our enemies at the moment."

"Your enemies?" asked Ezro.  
"I have seen passion in your eyes, Ezro. Work for us and I will give your what you seek all those years. Roaming the dirty streets, hitting your bounties and living like a human waste with a gun."  
"Azrael. I want Azrael." said Ezro.  
"No." she grinned. "Better. I will give you something to strive towards. A purpose."  
"There is nothing for me in this life but death. I am spent."  
"And how about revenge? How about being a part of something bigger?"

"I was part of something bigger. It was called World War Three."  
"A meaningless squabble among political governments, nothing more." she dismissed the most important event of the past century like it was of no concern.  
Her face turned to a sneering expression with the mentioning of politics.

"It was a destructive war that killed millions. Ruined countries." said Ezro.  
She snorted.  
"Nothing compared to the Real War."  
"What could be more real?" asked Ezro.  
She held her word on that, it was clear that she wasn't going to reveal anything before Ezro committed himself to the purpose.

"Do I have your word then? You will work for us." she said.  
Ezro leaned back and thought for a moment.  
What could be worse? He was the lapdog of one organization or another all his life. A whore of a gun. Was his life better now? Drifting into oblivion on that smelling TV-seat. Watching fifty year old TV shows and movies all day. It was no life, or death. Maybe this way he would finally meet his end. Maybe it would suddenly come.  
He did not had the guts to shoot himself in the head but maybe he would find someone who will. After all these years. Going back. His stomach churned with anxiety like he was a teenager again.  
"Sure." he said.

"Good." she replied and presented paper and pen.  
"A signature would be better."

He took a peek at the paper. It was really nothing. Mentioning something about a job and a payment.  
It really was a dud document. One that just existed as an excuse.  
Ezro knew that if he were to sold them out there would be more to pay than these silly conditions written here.  
He returned the paper with his sign on it.

"Good." she said again taking the contract and putting it in the file.  
"What is going on here?" asked Ezro.

"We are at war, Ezro."  
"With whom?"  
"Our enemies are many. But we are numerous as well. We are the VALKYRIE." she revealed.  
"Valkyrie?"  
"We are the only defense mankind has against the monsters that prowl this world."  
"You just lost me." said Ezro shaking his head.  
"For now all you need to know is that this world is not what it seems. And our chief enemy is called the CHIMERA." she said.  
Ezro looked indifferent.  
"CHIMERA is the organization that nurture the monsters. They...use..." she almost vomited the word "...them."  
"And you?" asked Ezro.  
"We keep the mankind pure. No cursed bloodlines taint our blood or our teachings."  
"Wait, so you're like a cult? What monsters would these be?" asked Ezro.  
"You will see them in time. But one of those monsters you already know." she replied.  
Ezro thought about the people he knew, none of them struck him as one of these 'monsters' she was talking about.

"Azrael." she said.  
"So you call your enemies monsters." said Ezro cynically.  
"No, the soul-rotten are the worst kind. Their souls and their ideas are corrupted with power. With greed."  
"Are you a Christian cult?" asked Ezro.  
"What? No." she replied, suddenly shocked by the absurd question.  
One of the guards sniggered behind the shadows. Her drilling stare stopped his noising.

"Look, you have my word..." his eyes slide to the file "...and my signature that I will work for you. But I don't believe in any of that hocus pocus." he said.  
"Believing isn't required. You will learn in time. And eventually...believe." she said.  
"Well, probably not. So you want me to bring in this scripture. Then what?"  
"Not only the scripture. There is also a girl we like you to bring into our care."  
"A girl? You also kidnap people?" he asked and realised his own kidnapped situation.  
"Don't answer that. Give me the information on this 'project'." he said using her own word.

She smiled a cold smile, he wasn't sure if she had any real expressions.  
Jan produced another file and handed it to him. The whole content.  
"You are forthcoming." said Ezro reading through it.

"Learn everything in that file. And you will be leaving in the morning."  
"Will I be given a gear?"  
"No, you won't need such things. This is a simple mission, but a very important one."

Ezro turned back to reading the file.  
There was the picture of the girl, she mentioned. Also the map of this Longwill town.

"Who is this girl?"  
"Her name is Linh Xuan. She is a Vietnamese." she informed.  
"Oh, one of our 'enemies'." smirked Ezro.  
Vietnam had joined the Western Unitarian Republic during the War of 2013, aka World War Three. Vietnamese spies were famed across the globe as the best of the West.

"She is Western. But West is not our enemy." said Jan.  
"So you are not Eastern?"  
"We don't take those meaningless political sides. We are the VALKYRIE and we fight for mankind."  
Ezro nodded indifferently.  
"That's good." he said just to say something.

"And the CHIMERA?" he asked, realising the obvious follow-up question.  
"They are also devout of any political allegiance. But they are corrupted and unpure." she claimed.

"Hmmph." was Ezro's answer.  
"What is she doing here?" he asked next.  
"Spying for the West of course." she said.

"I figured as much, but for what purpose."  
"She is looking into the Longwill scripture as well. All you need to know is that she must be in our hands along with the scriptures themselves."

"So she knows something." Ezro figured.  
Jan's face turned a slight shade of red. Ezro realised this and knew he caught something.  
"Tell me." he said clumsily.  
She didn't bought it, "You will be told on a need-to-know basis. You already know everything you need to."  
Ezro realised he wasn't getting anymore words from her mouth.

=I=

"Tell me, how can you, an internet conspirator, was able to hack into one of our databases?" asked the brutish man in suit.  
Colin was not intimidated by his stature.  
"I use my right to remain silent." he said.  
"You don't get it. There are no rights here." said the suit guy emphasizing the boxed in interrogation room around them.

There were two bodyguards behind Colin, one of them came beside him and planted a fist on his stomach.  
Colin locked his chin to keep his scream inside, despite the pain his diaphragm is going through. His face was racked with pain.  
"If you don't make this any difficult for us, we won't make it difficult on you." said the interrogator.

"Now let's start again. Who gave you the means to penetrate our security systems?" asked the suit.  
"Some online hacker. I don't know his name." replied Colin.  
"There must be more."  
"He goes by the name Mr. No-One. That's all I know I swear." said Colin, sweating.  
He occasionally took scared glances at the huge bodyguard that stood beside him.  
"We already know that name. What else?"  
"Umm. Umm."  
Suit guy nodded to the bodyguard. Bodyguard lifted a hand to strike.  
"No, no! Wait! I got the package from a homeless man in Mass Housing. That was all. I swear." said Colin as fast as he could.  
Suit guy dismissed the bodyguard back to the shadows with a hand wave.  
"Sit tight. Someone will be coming in a moment and if you don't behave, I will be back." said the interrogator and got up without waiting for a reply.  
Colin shook his head rapidly in affirmation as the suit guy faced the metal door, waiting for it to open.

A well dressed woman entered the interrogation room and sat across Colin.  
"Hi, Colin. I'm Jan."

=I=

Interrogator was watching Jan converse with Colin over the one sided mirror of the interrogation room.  
Ezro came beside him and started watching the duo.  
Interrogator glanced at Ezro and Ezro returned the glance.  
"I take it you stand with us now." asked the interrogator.  
"Yeah." Ezro nodded.  
"Welcome aboard. In time you will see that this is the right ship to be on board." he said.  
"Well, I wasn't offered any other ships. So..." replied Ezro.

"Sorry for the beating you got back there, it's my job."  
Ezro shrugged "I understand. I did similar things back in the day."  
"I read about you."  
"You said it before. I was in the fifth." said Ezro trying to dismiss the subject.  
"Not just that. Other work too. Bounty hunting and bodyguard duty."  
"Just things to get by. Nothing of note." said Ezro.

"I'm Cale. The beating boys back there were Aliaksei and Rasm."  
"You people don't use surnames, I guess." said Ezro.  
"We are the VALKYRIE. We are expunged from any records while we serve the organization."  
"Which records?" asked Ezro.  
"East, West, other secret organizations. You name it. We don't exist. And the VALKYRIE does not exist."  
"What's with your deal with this CHIMERA I hear?"  
Cale's face took a stone cold expression.  
"They and us bid for the fate of mankind. They want to rule everything with their army of monsters. We want to end their horrid ways and make mankind the sole rulers of this world."

"You and Jan, keep saying monsters. There are no monsters. Universe is simply empty of those magical fantasies. Gods? Dragons? Daemons? None of them exist." said Ezro.  
"You're right. Not those fantasies but more horrible things exists in the shadows than you can imagine."  
"You are telling me that these creatures just roam around and nobody ever seen or recorded them in solid proof. And I don't want to hear about no blurry UFO photos or five thousand year old stories about some giant monster living underground."  
"Many of those things you heard were either legends, corrupted fantasy version of real events, or fabricated lies to keep people ignorant."

"And then what is real?"  
"Real is simply those things you will go out and find. No books, no photos."  
"Did you ever found anything out there? Anything real that is." Ezro asked to mock.  
"I did. And you will too. But for now do your duty and stay in line." advised Cale.

"Yessir." said Ezro in a mocking tone.  
They returned watching Colin getting blackmailed by Jan. She revealed Colin's embarrassing online fetishes to push him and presented his internet logs as proof. Colin's face was a dark shade of red.

"What's up with him? Why are you threatening him?" asked Ezro.  
"Him? He is your new partner." said Cale confused, he was expecting Ezro to know this.

"Partner? I need no partner." said Ezro.  
"Jan's orders. I heard he is crafty with stuff. Electronics or something."  
"Computers?"  
"Yeah, that. He somehow found something he shouldn't. So we went to grab him, he evaded us. Apparently he brought you because when we returned, you fired on us."

"You people shot first." pointed Ezro.  
"Well, we can't have people get in our way now can we?"  
"So what was all that 'good of all mankind' bullshit was about?"  
"We serve the greater whole, if we have to sacrifice a few, so be it."

"Good as I'm going to get." muttered Ezro to himself.

=I=

Night had descended upon the city once again.

A woman had finished her shift at the butchery and were making her nightly training on the punching-bag with all her energy pumped into it.  
One fist following the other, bending the grain filled bag with each one.  
Beside her was a fighting ring. Ropes and corners, atop a fight platform.  
Two guys in good shape feigned and kicked in practice.  
Dancing a mock dance of violence.

Other men were around. Some lifting weights, others practising fighting moves on their own. They beat up opponents made of empty air with high kicks and low punches.  
The place was not well lit for it was wide and large.  
An old warehouse converted into a training ground for the club.  
No Chains Fighters Club was a private organization that only allowed the very best and the very involved people in martial arts.  
Not a group you can become a member by paying money like some other private clubs, No Chains was strictly meritocratic in it's nature.  
The only real condition to become a member was to be able to fight. Or wanting to learn how to fight.  
All walks of life meeting with all types of martial combat under this roof.

Club itself wasn't wealthy, it barely existed with collective money from the members.  
The self-appointed club leader was Chief Lou. And he strictly refused any rich boys without a fighting spirit to join in the ranks.  
Which in itself diminished their monetary resources.  
Chief Lou was the leader of this group. He was an ex-95 veteran. He fought through the disastrous 1995 conflict that signalled the current world division of East and West.

The guy was 67 years old but he had twice the arms of any young member in the club. He was also the founder of the No Chains but he ruled it out of ability and not as founder's fee.  
More than once he claimed that anyone who bested him in the ring would be the leader. None was up to the challenge.  
Lou was the ideals of the club embodied. He only cared about a fair and ordered fight and nothing else.  
Race, creed, faith, gender was moot for him.

No Chains was a group under the radar. None of the bigger fish cared about their existence and they passed on as small fry. The other small fish however knew their name.  
Club protected his own kind and none of the lesser faction of the city dared attack them openly. You wouldn't want to aggravate a group of hard-asses that were hell-bent on fighting.

Violence on the streets were different. And the Chains knew that. They tried to stay out of trouble with the others as much as they can. But there is always that moment when things get hot.  
When the water boiled, they knew that the streets weren't a fighting ring and all was fair.

Wide windows of the warehouse were black from the night. Before the Chains owned it the warehouse was used to store drugs and after the police raid the place was sold cheap.  
There was a sliding metal gritted door, away from the training area and yellow dim lights shone the way.

Several members were smoking on the outside. Someone approached them and they talked. One of the guys threw the butt of his spent smoke on the ground and crushed it under his sneakers.  
Then he entered into the warehouse, with the stranger on his trail.

"Hey, Ladlow! This guy is looking for you." he said pointing with his thumb at the person behind him.  
Ladlow was drenched in sweat, her sleeveless shirt was clutching her skin. She had black tight torso length underwear underneath and it showed.  
She turned her head and looked at the guy in the dirty brown trench-coat.

"Who are you?" she asked.  
"Douglass Finley. You Ladlow Batesman?" Douglass said.  
Ladlow looked him up and down judgingly, then grabbed a towel and wiped it to her face.

"What do you want?" she asked when done with the towel.  
"John Mey sent me." he said.  
Ladlow looked unsure about the name.  
"Police chief. Fat, balding." reminded Douglass.  
Her face changed to a recognizing expression.  
"I heard from him that you are a true altruist." said Douglass.  
Her lip curled in disregard "Can't say that I am." she replied humbly.  
"You are the Ladlow that helped his niece?"  
"I am. I remember her." she replied.

"Well, John said I could use your help."  
"Help on what?"  
"A job. I am a freelance investigator."

"I'm not much for investigating." she replied.  
A passing muscled guy wearing arm-length bodyglove threw her a plastic bottle.  
She caught the bottle of HerculesSeed mid-air, cranked open it's head and took a gulp.  
The creamy white protein drink tasted like salted lime.

"I am told you can handle yourself." said Douglass, then looked at her body as if testing his point.  
"So what do you think?" she asked.  
"I'd say you would."

"Why me? Surely we got lots of tough guys in here that can help you out." she pointed out.  
"That's that. But I don't need a bodyguard." he replied.  
She raised an eyebrow.  
"I'm not..." she began.  
"I need someone I can trust. Someone to watch my back." he cut in.

Ladlow looked at him judgingly again.  
"Let me clothe." she said.

=I=

They were standing outside. Ladlow was sitting atop a hip height crate while Douglass looked to the night-lights of the buildings ahead.  
Car lights shone like yellow-white dots in the distance and buildings had tiny window lights before the blue night sky.

"So this place...Longwill."  
"It's a town outside the city. I need to go there and extract this woman. Linh Xuan." Douglass said.  
"Linh? Who is that?" she asked.  
"She was working for my client and went missing. They want her found and brought back." he explained.  
"And you want me to come with you."  
"Yes. I need someone capable with me on this one."

"You were a cop before?" asked Ladlow.  
"I was." replied Douglass.  
"Why didn't the police chief hooked you up with someone? You were old friends."  
"He doesn't want to get his men involved in this. It is outside the city and if things went sour he would have no excuse to his superiors."  
"Get sour how?" asked Ladlow.  
"I don't know, yet. But you know how the nights are. Danger is always there."  
Ladlow thought about that girl he met, Aisha. And how she was attacked so close to her home.  
"True. The nights aren't safe."

"So you would come?" asked Douglass.  
"I don't know. I don't usually go look for trouble. Sure, I help out those in need. But that's different."

"That's why I need your help. I don't need some muscle bound meat-slab that would run away at the first sign of trouble. No offense." he said taking a peek at Ladlow's friends that were smoking near the warehouse door.  
"I understand." Ladlow said and took a gulp of HerculesSeed again.

"That thing will make you cancer." said Douglass nodding to the plastic bottle.  
Ladlow looked at the bottle in her hand like she was just seeing it.  
"Cancer? I can deal with that. I would keep on doing what I do best even if I am bound to die. You know what I can't handle?" she asked.  
"What?"  
"Pacifism. Inactivity. I am a fighter. All of us are." she said looking at the walls of the warehouse.  
"So you would help me? At least for the sake of that girl."  
Ladlow rolled the idea over her head before replying.  
"I will. But only if your intentions are good. You harm anyone innocent, you cause hurt needlessly and I'm out."

"Okay." said Douglass presenting a hand.  
Ladlow grabbed it.  
Douglass' palm hurt as they shook, he realised that she was strong.  
And he realised that he made a right choice with her.


	6. MoL : 6

-6-

After three hours of crying and half a bottle of booze, she had managed to gather her strength to reach the police station.  
There were Badges walking in and out of the front doors and one held out the door for her as she entered.

She would thank him for the polite act but she missed the opportunity, for her mind was swimming with all the thought-debris.  
Was she doing the right thing? She didn't know the streets as well as Ladlow and she told her that it would be futile to report this to the police.

And what would come afterwards? What if they caught the thugs? Would they stand trial? Would they saw Aisha's face and know her name?  
Could she even be able to stand seeing them again? Even if it's in a court room. She really wasn't sure if her actions would increase her suffering or decrease them.

She was half-drunk and half-mad with anxiety. They transferred her to the police chief when she told what happened in hazy words.  
It was probably that the working desk officer didn't want to spent his night shift with this obviously drunk girl.  
One of the Badges walked her to the chief's room and let her in. It was a small room with wide inner-windows that looked into the police station.  
Room was old and everything in it was well overused.

"Sit down young lady." prompted the fat, balding police chief.  
Aisha looked down at the chair as if seeing one only now before sitting down.  
"I'm Chief John Mey. How can I help you?" he asked with a warm smile to ease her anxiety.  
He could deduce from her withdrawn look that she was troubled.  
"I was attacked and they tried to rape me." she said.

"Uh-huh. And your name?" he asked.  
"Aisha Habib." she replied.  
"And you see these men? Any clues for us to identify them?"  
"They called themselves the Mob Brethren. I might remember them if I saw them again. Everything happened real quick, I don't remember much details." she said.  
"Hmm." wondered the Police Chief.  
Aisha looked at him waiting a solid return.

"Did you get hurt in the attack?"  
"No, not much." she wasn't battered.  
"How did you get away?" asked Chief.  
"Someone helped me."  
"Who?"  
"I don't know. Some passerby".  
John rose his eyebrows in amazement as he leaned back in his char.  
"You are quite lucky then. It's rare to get heroes these days."  
A moment of silence passed between them.

John leaned forward and his face turned all serious.  
"Here is the thing, Aisha. These Mob Brethren who attacked you are a real problem. He shook his head in disappointment.  
"I can file a report but they wouldn't get that much sentence even if you win a court." he said.  
It was hard to hear such hopelessness for Aisha, but she felt that there was even more.  
"And it will be your expense to pay the court." John looked at her clothing and noticed the apparent lack of jewellery and her collage grade wear she put on.  
"Unless you have parents to back you up." he said as a matter of fact.  
Aisha shook her head "No." she added.

"I understand, then I think you should let this one go." he said.  
"Let it go? I was attacked! I was being raped!" she shouted. People in the police station turned to look at the chief's room.  
"Calm down. I know it was hard and I'm sorry. But ask yourself if you want more trouble with these people."  
Aisha wanted to shout more, it felt good. But also she felt the futility, because deep down she knew that the police chief was right.  
"These are Mob Brethren, my girl. They're more dangerous than any thug on the streets. Believe me, I have dealt with their filth long enough to know that." he said.  
His voice bled sincerity but deep down there were resentment.  
"If they didn't hurt you physically then I suggest you call this a lucky break. It could have been far worse."

Aisha stared at him without saying anything.  
"Please, girl. I implore you. Do not put more agony on yourself. No good can come out of this."  
At that moment an epiphany flew over Aisha. She let it go. She really let it go.  
Her reasoning ego kicked in and kept her sane with logical excuses.

"It was one in a million kind of thing..."  
"He is right, why stir the hornet's nest..."  
"I wasn't hurt that bad anyway..."  
"It could have been worse..."  
"I'm lucky Ladlow was there, why test my luck..."

Her thoughts trailed and she calmed down. She was also sobering up.  
"Are you okay?"  
Her thoughts engulfed her but now her vision was returning.  
"Yes. I will not make a complaint." she said.  
Chief John smiled in relief.  
"Very good. I am sorry for what happened to you. I wish I could have helped more." he said.  
She felt that he was sincere.

She left the police station and hit the streets once again. It was past midnight but she managed to caught one of the taxis and ride home.  
When she got there she had one thing in mind.

She closed the door of her apartment behind her and leaned on it. Her phone was in her hand.  
Aisha found Omar's number on it and pressed dial.

=I=

Mob Brethren thugs that attacked Aisha had returned to their headquarters at the Mass Housing District. The building itself was dripping with filth and misuse. There were bullet holes on the walls and the cement was cracked and had fallen down in various parts, showing the brickwork underneath.  
Obscene graffiti and spray-writings covered the walls. There was a trail of garbage at the base of the outer walls.  
Not home product garbage but the wasted kind. Packages of condoms, broken beer bottles, drug needles and other utilities that serve human depravity.  
And as always, a classic, cardboard boxes. In the city you could tell what kind of a neighbourhood it is just by examining the dumpsters.

They entered through the front door, half carrying half sliding their beat up friend. There were two guards on the outside, armed with pump-action Benelli Nova shotguns.  
Hookers belonging to the Mob Brethren loitered around the street. They waited around carelessly, not taking any precautions to secure themselves. Nobody would try anything on the Mob's turf. None of the small-time gangs anyway. And the bigger crime factions rarely moved openly.

Mob Brethren were the major thug gang handling the small fry crime in the city. They roamed all parts of the city but they mainly operated in Mass Housing district. They acted tough and even had their motto "We own the streets." as a reminder that they're strong.  
But in reality they fought constantly to keep their top-dog status among the many crime groups within the city.  
Atop the food chain of the streets was where the real power at. Those factions that transcended over the streets used the Mob Brethren for many dirty dealings of their own.  
And in return Mob Brethren kept clear of their holdings.

Many of those factions had their own muscle forces to keep them secure, but Mob Brethren served them as anonymous hitmen or delivery people.  
Sadly no one was interested in their cheap quality heroin or their sleazy, stinking whores.

Two guys carried their friend into the building and up the stairs. The thug who attacked Aisha in the first place was called Phoenix. He claimed it charmed the ladies but ladies might not had the same views on the matter.  
He looked up to see the doom before them. Stairs led up several storeys until they reached to their end. And Phoenix would wish to have some wings right about now.  
The building was supposedly an apartment complex but it was heavily redecorated by the Brethren.  
End of the stairs led up to the "halls" of the Boss. Halls was an appropriate name, for all the walls in that floor was demolished and only the several dozen supporting columns remained.  
It created a huge space that resembled a wide throne room. But with broken brickwork and cement rectangle columns holding the whole upper floors above it.

As they reached the top, a muscle bound thug with shaven head and tattoos came into view.  
Phoenix looked up at the darkly dressed bald white man and shouted "Help us Lukas!"

Lukas didn't moved an inch. Instead he looked down on them and laughed heartily.  
"What happened to you?" he asked still laughing between words.  
"Damn it, help us." said Phoenix again, trying to keep his friend upright. His arms burned with fatigue.

They were exhausted from carrying him around but if they let go of him now, he would tumble all the way to ground floor.  
"Ahahahaha!" laughed Lukas, still not motioning for any help.

Lukas was the second in command of the Mob Brethren. He was called the Vizier by his fellow gang members.  
It was his job to know everything that was going around and moved like a preying bird among the Brethren. Scanning every action and motive.

Leader of the Brethren trusted him and it was whispered that he and the boss was closer than anyone gave credit for. Some sort of cultish connection, they gossiped.  
He was ruthless and had little care for the weak among their ranks. He was both the enforcer and the inquisitor among the Brethren.

"Fucking shit!" swore Phoenix when he realised that he wasn't going to get any help from the always-ruthless Vizier. With one last sweaty and grunting effort, the thugs hauled their friend atop the stairs before letting him drop to the floor.  
When the three sweating and panting thugs sprawled before his feet, Vizier's laugh cut abruptly and a scorning expression took his face.  
He could just kick them in the face just now and send them thumbling down the stairs they barely crept on if he really wished to.  
The idea crossed his mind. It might be fun to watch them crawl again up the stairs again. Nah. It wasn't wise to kept the Boss waiting and he must have caught the scent of these weaklings.  
He decided it was time to bring them to Him.  
"Come with me. You will explain this mess yourself to the Boss."

"The Boss?" asked Phoenix, his voice was a choking whisper from fatigue with mixed dread. "But we..." he mumbled, his mind working on an excuse.  
"You came here and bring this..." nodding with his chin at the wounded thug, "...mess...instead of your shit stained lair, so yes, you are to explain what happened..."  
His bald face moved closer with a grim but pleased expression to Phoenix. "...yourself." he added.  
Phoenix mumbled intelligible excuses but Vizier stared at him with an uncaring frown.

Vizier shook his head disapprovingly "You want me to call the Boss here then?" he asked turning away from them and walking several steps as if to really call the Boss.  
He really wasn't going to do such a thing, he was no fool, but he put on the act just to mess with them.  
Phoenix's face was completely white as he saw Vizier actually going to call the Boss.  
"No, no, stop. We'll go." he shouted behind the strong figure. Vizier froze and turned to look at them. He nodded with his head towards the direction of the Boss, "move." he ordered.  
Phoenix gave a quick obeying nod and threw the wounded thug's arm over his shoulder. "Come on, lift." he said and both thugs mounted their friend with arms over shoulders.  
Vizier walked slowly as the two thugs and their unconciouss baggage followed him.

They found their Boss at his throne, with his whores laying around him.  
Boss' 'throne' was a large and old winged chair with cushioned sides sprouting in either side. Whores were sprawled on the sides, some passed out, some sleeping.  
Sides of the throne and the chair itself was drowning under many different pieces of fur. It was an amalgamation between a chair, a carpet and sheets of fur.

Atop the throne sat a lean but strong man. Despite the roman style laying women beside him, Boss was completely awake and alert. His arms were carelessly limping as he did not sat on the throne in a tidy fashion. Or caring one for that matter. One arm dangling from one side and he was carassing his beard with his other hand as they group approached.  
Boss wore a dark blue vest with lines of metal studs on it. His arms were bare except for inks that covered it.  
Inks were numerous on his arms and they were good quality ones that were made in a proper ink-shop by expensive artists rather than a ten East dollar crack inker.

He was Diaz Juan Jose Agapito. His name had a history of his own but everyone called him 'Boss'. Or 'Diaz' if they fansied a fresh knife cut on their body.

Diaz had blonde ragged hair and a long Dutch style beard that covered his jawline without a moustache. Despite the ragged and sleazy look he was quite handsome.  
He had deep eyebrows that emphasized a strong gaze coupled with wide and well structured jawline.

He could easily be casted as a barbarian hero in a generic medieval fantasy movie. But nobody was courageous or stupid enough to tell him that.  
Seeing the approaching group "What is it, my Vizier?" he asked.

Vizier gave a short but serious and respectful nod before talking, which the Boss did not care for a return.  
"These idiots, got their asses kicked." chuckled the Vizier presenting the thugs with an open hand mock gesture.  
Boss scanned them disinterestedly as the two thugs were laying their beat up friend on the ground.

Phoenix felt a chill, either from the gaze of the Boss or the wide space of the 'throne hall'.  
Walls around them were demolished but there were many wide cloth makeshift-walls that were hanging instead. Some brickwork coupled with wood and rarely metal bars kept them up to create loosely formed rooms.  
Atop them were spray painted graffiti. They weren't even good ones but randomly sprayed colors that occasionally formed words or icons, either by coincidence or by bad design. Black, red and white were the prominent colors.

Boss checked the wounded thug on the ground with a stare that had minimum amount of interest in it.  
He would feel the condition of the wound by heightening his sense. But he decided it just wasn't worth it on this piece of mortal trash.

The health of the thugs were of little concern but there was another issue here at hand that interessed him greatly.  
"Who was the fool to mess with the Mob Brethren?" asked Diaz.

Aisha's attacker Phoenix answered.  
"Some guy, he was huge. We weren't doing nothing when he jumped on us and beat Jacko to a pulp."

Boss rolled his eyes and pushed one of his whores away from himself. She drooled away from him in a drug haze.  
It was clear that there was something this thug wasn't telling him. But he let the subject go. He really didn't care that much about the shady dealing of his lowly thugs.

Mob Brethren worked in a pack mentality. An oversized tribe that produced their chain of command by show of force alone.  
With the Boss on the top, each member was theoretically equal. But in practical terms the strong bossed the weak.  
Gangbangers like Phoenix was the lowliest of the low. They caused uncontrolled crime and only had their use as cannon fodder when the Mob Brethren needed them to be.  
Diaz didn't cared much for crime they caused in the city, but he knew well enough that such anarchic violence might have dire consequences.  
Hurt the wrong people's relatives and you would be in trouble. And some troubles you don't survive.

"You were doing nothing." he began sarcastically "And this...man beat you up?"  
"Yes." said the thug, lines of sweat was growing on his brow. Being before the Boss' gaze was unsettling.

"Who was he?" "We don't know, it was some huge brute. Probably a military guy or something. He wore camo-clothing and everything." thug lied.  
"So you think there is a military vigilante after our guys?" asked the Boss.

"Probably, I don't know. It was dark." he tried to muddy his lie. He felt that he could actually get away with lying to the Boss.  
"Where was dark?" said Diaz.

"Shit." Pheonix thoughts screamed as the boss caught a lead.  
He decided to come clean, at least partially to salvage his situation. Everyone knew about Boss' bad temper and he did not want to get him riled up.  
Up until now the only thing that saved them was Diaz' disinterest in this situation.

"There was this woman and she was showing us a good time." Phoenix said.  
Boss kept his gaze at him waiting for him to finish his tale.

"He said he wanted the whore and attacked us." he finished with a shake of his head as if the action confirmed his words as truth.  
Diaz didn't bought it. He leaned back to ponder on this. His eyes drifted to the wounded thug on his floor. He was beat up pretty badly and it wasn't even gunshots.  
There might be something interesting in this "military guy" story.

Maybe it was a hunter in the dark. Or was someone on his trail again?  
A vigilante perhaps. Or just a random psychopath. Cursed God knew that there were many of those out there.

An actual crazed military vigilante. Sounded to Diaz like a fun idea. Cursed God he was bored.  
If half of what this thug was saying is true, he could actually have some fun.  
He was so fed up with one night blurring into another. Even feeding became stale.  
It might be a good hunt after all. This night was boring him anyway.

Phoenix wasn't sure if the Boss was aware of them anymore. He was dazing off into the tall ceiling. He thought of crawling away down the stairs.  
But Diaz' face snapped to him and made him jump.  
"You piece of shits can still be of use to me." he said.  
"Yes, Boss." Phoenix wanted to say but his mouth was locked with fear.  
"I want you to tail this military guy and report back to me. Under no circumstances you are to interfere with him. I want him undamaged." he said, declaring his intention.  
"What about him?" asked the thug referring to his wounded friend.

Diaz looked at him and could feel that blood flowed freely within his chest. He would surely die from internal bleeding, unless attended properly.  
"Dump him in the infirmary if you must, be quick about it. Then be on your way. I want him found before this dawn."

"Thank you, boss." said Phoenix.  
He was amazed that they survived such an ordeal. If they hadn't brought the news about that brute that attacked them, the outcome could be quite different.  
Boss was pleased with the news of this military guy, he knew that such a person did not exist. But it really wasn't hard to just find a buff-dude with military outfit posing around nightclubs, telling their fantasy stories on "When-I-was-in-the-army" to get some pussy.  
All he had to was to find such a guy and point Diaz on him.

The thugs lifted their wounded friend up and carried him to the infirmary. Mob Brethren kept their own medical expertise people in a very practical infirmary. Their 'experts' were either 2013 veteran ex-medics or other people that learned the art of medicine without ever getting a degree in medicine.

They knew how to remove bullets from flesh and stitch knife wounds but anything else was beyond their care. And by care, it meant beyond their interest to help.  
If you lived to fight the dirty battles of the Mob, so be it. Otherwise, nobody gave a thought.

What's more was that some of the 'staff' were whores or thugs who wanted less to do with the streets and the dangerous lifestyle out there.  
Despite all the terrible organization Mob Brethren always managed to have enough resources in the ways that mattered to them.

Diaz's charismatic leadership and his ability to deliver his promises as a gang leader was the main driving factor.  
If it wasn't for his angry and resolute leadership the Mob would dissipate among the power struggles of the city itself.

Mob Brethren was akin to a cheap-o-store. Everything was cheap and were of shit quality, but they would always be stocked with what you need and in ample supply.

"What do you think of this, Vizier?" asked Diaz.  
Vizier had his arms crossed and his muscles were bulging.  
"These morons would not be able to tail anyone. But it's your call." he said.

Vizier was the only one who could speak his mind freely to the boss. Others were amazed by the close relationship between the Boss and the Vizier.  
And none of them understood the bond of blood between them.

"They will do fine." Diaz said waving a dismissive hand "To a certain extend." he added.

"Boss?" came a voice from the corner of the room.

Vizier turned to the voice and saw one of their delivery guys standing in the corner. He had a young pretty Latino girl he held in a tight grip.  
Upon seeing them Diaz slightly rose. "This night could get better." he thought.  
Diaz judged the girl to be of teen ages. She had a very shapely and beautiful body and a pretty face to complement it.

"Yes Neil, what have you brought me?" Diaz asked slowly rising from his throne.  
As he did so, half drugged whores beside him shuffled with distress, as their drug-hazed-sleep was disturbed.  
He shoved one away and let her fall onto the ground, her face bounced off the floor as it slammed down but she was too out of it to take notice of the hurt.

Diaz ignored the fallen whore and kept looking at the newcomer girl with a desiring expression.  
"Who is this lovely thing?" he asked moving at the duo.

Neil was one of the so called Herders. His job was to bring in precious and specific types of blood to Diaz.  
"This just in, Boss" Neil said presenting the girl.

"Hello." said Diaz to the pretty Latino with a handsome smile spreading his face.  
Girl didn't respond. Her eyes were fixed on the ground. She was shaking in fear. Her barely covering clothing didn't help much with her mood either.

"Good find, Neil. Good find." Diaz said eyeing her body.  
He moved beside her and circled around her as he came even closer.  
He caressed her bare arm with one hand while the other motioned to grab her by the hip.  
She was shaking uncontrollably now. A trail of piss ran down her left leg and pooled yellow on the dirty floor.

His face swam near her bare neck and he took in a noseful of her perfumed smell.  
Diaz was about to grab her arm but suddenly he stopped. He had just came to a complete tense stop from a lingering sensual approach.

He took a sniff again close to her neck and his face contorted in anger.  
"Fucking spoiled whore!" he shouted and punched her in the face, felling the girl on the ground.  
She managed to protect her head from slamming on the concrete floor by throwing her arms up. She laid sideways on the ground while shaking and crying.  
Her beautiful black hair covered up her face as she sobbed violently, one hand on her cheek where the fist hit.  
She expected further assaults but they never came.

Diaz wasn't after her. He had turned in blinding speed towards Neil, who was backing away with eyes wide open in dread.

"You! You dare brought me a lowlife with piss quality blood!" Diaz roared.  
Neil was trying to back away towards the stairs but it was too late.

Diaz slammed an open hand to the side of Neil's head, the blow was strong but it was controlled. Even so that Diaz had caught Neil's ear following the impact.  
He pulled his ear downwards and Neil knelt, following the pain of his ear.  
Diaz was about to tear the ear away if he pulled any harder.

"Aaagh!" screamed Neil as the flesh around his ear was turning light red from the strain.  
"You piece of shit! You know that I never drink from Brazilian whores."  
"Please, boss! Please! She said she was from Portugal! Please! Her ID said so!" screamed Neil his face contorted in agony.

Diaz made a fist with his other hand and slammed it to the side of Neil's head.  
A loud 'thunk' sound came from his skull.

Neil roared in pain as he was crying at the same time.  
"Please! Boss! Please!" he kept begging but Diaz' blood was up.

Even Vizier wasn't moving a muscle as the scene before him unfolded.  
Neil had fucked up.  
And fucking up in Mob Brethren had consequences.  
Severe consequences.

Diaz produced a large switchblade and slashed upwards at Neil's neck. Blade cleaved through artery and separated flesh into two red parts.  
Blood jerked away from the torn vein and dark red blood rained down from Neil's neck and chest. Darkening his shirt as they flow.

Still holding the Neil's ear, Diaz put the sharp end of the knife to his own hip and pushed it against his hip bone.  
He had pushed the blade to it's inner-sheath by using his own hip bone as an obstacle.  
Blade bit into his flesh lightly and would hurt a normal human. But to Diaz it felt like a boring sting on his dead flesh.  
Such a flesh wound would just heal in no time anyways.

He pocketed the knife and dipped his index finger to the trailing blood of Neil.  
Diaz raised the bloodied finger to his nose and sniffed.  
"Disgusting piece of meat." he exclaimed.  
And wiped the blood on Neil's cheek.  
He slammed the dying man away from himself, making extra careful not go get any of that worthless blood on his clothing.

Neil was gurgling on the floor, holding onto his own bleeding neck with both hands.  
But Diaz wasn't interested in him anymore. His anger was spent.

He turned from dying man and walked back to his throne. He had to push away one of the whores that had sprawled on his seat to sit.  
Another whore was completely awake and had watched the entire spectacle, she had seen such Diaz angry many times over and watched it as a casual event.  
Her stare followed Diaz onto the throne and she kept looking at him even when he came to a rest.  
Diaz returned the stare. Her eyes were black eyelined marble beauties. She kept looking at him back.

Their odd staring contest went on for a full ten seconds.  
"You got a problem, Micky?" Diaz growled at her.  
She shook her had and broke her gaze.

"What do you want to do with this girl, boss?" asked Vizier looking at the Latino girl sprawled on the ground.  
"I don't care. Work her in the streets or something." Diaz said, he got up and left.

Vizier and the rest stared after him as he walked away angrily, pushing down a half-drugged thug as he marched on.

=I=

"Ezro!" roared Colin as he charged towards him. Ezro kept out a hand to prevent his hugging.  
He was just too happy to see a familiar face. Even though if it someone he just met yesterday.  
"They blackmailed me." said Colin. Ezro had a feeling that he was about to start rambling on his interrogation.  
"Quite the impolite bunch, eh?" he said motioning for his pack of smokes.  
A voice stopped him mid-way.  
"It is forbidden to smoke in this facility." one of VALKYRIE agents had called.  
"Proves my point." said Ezro gruntled. It had been some time that he didn't smoke.

"What is this place? Who are these people?" asked Colin.  
"Didn't they tell you that?"  
"Sure they did. Bunch of lies. I'm asking you." said Colin.  
Ezro looked over his shoulder at the black suited VALKYRIE agent that warned him and shrugged.  
"They're the good guys." he said with a not so convincing serious face.

"They made me sign something! I'm screwed!" Colin said.  
"You didn't read before signing?" asked Ezro.  
"No. I was too scared." Colin said.

"Well, at least he is honest." thought Ezro.  
It wasn't his idea to drag Colin along while he looks for this Longwill stuff. He thought that the VALKYRIE would dump him after they interrogated him but for some reason they also had recruited him.  
But now he was stuck with him and didn't know what to make of it. Colin didn't seemed like a bad guy to have around but he wasn't sure he could hold it together if things get rough.

Jan appeared in the doorway with her men flanking on the sides.  
"Walk with me you two. Be quick, we are on a schedule here." she said.

They followed her through a well-lit metal corridor.  
"This place feels like underground." thought Ezro as he noticed the lack of any windows so far. The flouresant lights were dizzying after a while and the constant pressure of a metal celiling overhead was unnerving.  
"That or a sealed bunker." he figured.  
He also realised that the VALKYRIE bodyguards had disappeared in a moment's notice and that they were walking alone with Jan.

"What is going on? What do you want from us?" asked Colin as he caught up with Jan.  
"He really didn't read the paper." reflected Ezro.  
Colin was apparently clueless to the whole situation.  
Jan sighed before speaking "You two are to go to town of Longwill and retrieve the scriptures of Longwill. Then bring it back to me."  
Ezro expected Colin to blunder excuses but he amazed him by asking something more reasonable.  
"Why us?"

"Coincidence. We needed people without ties to the CHIMERA. So we found two with clear background checks and filled the quota."  
"An ex-soldier and an internet nerd wasn't your first choice I assume." said Ezro.  
Colin frowned at him, he didn't like being labelled as such. What he did online spoke of volume.  
"Sure." she said.  
"What happened to them?" asked Ezro, pressing the issue.  
"CHIMERA happened." replied Jan.  
Ezro didn't ask no more.

"So, we catch a bus or something?" asked Colin.  
"We will provide you with a vehicle but you have to hurry and be extra discrete. CHIMERA does not know of your involvement and we want to keep it that way."

"Agreed." said Ezro.  
He knew they had work on their hands and the last thing he wanted to see was the capabilities of this CHIMERA.  
Inviting hostiles would be a bad move in this situation. Besides clever and sneaky movements worked wonders in the bounty hunting business. Come to think of it, this was a lot like a bounty hunting job, realised Ezro. Except they were to retreive an item, rather than a person.  
Must be simpler, since objects did not tried to run away.

"You didn't told me much about CHIMERA." said Colin.  
"You don't need to know anything right now other than your objective and who you work for." Jan replied.

Ezro still felt the sting of his flesh wounds. He ignored the burning sensation, knowing that Jan would simply tell him to shrug it off if he complained about them.  
It was the experience of being a cheap frontline soldier that he caught up back in the War.  
Corridor came to an abrupt end, automated double doors sliding to the sides with a 'swish'.  
Before them was a large hangar.

There were three black cars and lots of military gear unloaded inside. Black suited figures were putting on ammo vests and stuffing them with magazines.  
Colin had a very good memory and he spotted the Jan's bodyguards among the preparing figures, then to his horror he spotted the rifles and smgs they packed.

"What's going on?" he asked fearfully when he threw nervous glances at many guns that the agents packed.  
"We will drop you off at a local garage where a fully paid rental is waiting for you." replied Jan.  
"The owner will recognize you, he is our guy." she added.  
"After that?" asked Colin.  
"You leave the city and make for the Longwill at once." she said.

"Do we get any of that?" asked Ezro nodding to the armaments.  
"No. You don't need them." she replied.  
Ezro caught a passing expression on her face that made him think otherwise.  
"I have a feeling we do." he mumbled.

Jan marched towards one of the cars while the duo stood around like dummies.  
Seeing that they still stand around, she hold onto the door and nodded into the car, "Get in."

=I=

One after the other, black matted cars rode down the streets. Dark tinted windows sucked all the light, protecting the privacy within.  
Once they were inside the cars they both realised that the VALKYRIE had extensive funds. Cars themselves wasn't luxurious but they packed the top quality of everything required.  
There were no mini-bars or champaigne holders. Instead Ezro realised the embedded compartments around their seats that probably used to store weaponry or other gadgets.  
If VALKYRIE was one thing, they were efficient.

Three cars sped one after the other, spots of yellow lights stroke upon them as they went down the lane in a single line. Streets were devoit of any activity, at this hour of the night there were seldomly any other cars. Traffic lights shone red at this late hour, blinking every second with a crimson gaze.  
They were complamented by blue and red lights for a moment as a patrol car drove by. Cars passed side by side, not acknowledging the existence of the other party. Colin saw the bored and sleepy cops in the car as he sped past in opposite direction only for a fleeting second.

Then he saw people leaving a night club in groups, their shadowy figures were wobbling from one side to the other.  
Some were drenched in complete purple color as they passed into the spotlight lit by the nightclub.

Hookers were loitering around the streets and stared at the passing convoy. Hoping for someone rich to stop by and provide her with this month's rent.  
They turned away chat along themselves when such a hope vanished with the cars passing by.  
It was a simple night in the Diaz Guardian City. If he was home, he would be sleeping. Or chattering away on his computer rig.  
Instead he was inside a car with people he did not know, armed people. He tried not to think on that point, for it made him incredibly nervous.  
He didn't had any choice in this whole matter. But he wasn't sure he wanted out if asked. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. He spent his entire life searching the truth behind the secrets of this world. He knew that the Overlords controlled everthing.  
He knew about the men in black. And here they were. Hell, he was riding in a car with them.  
Even if this didn't turned out the way he wanted, he still would have huge amounts of experience to aid his search for the Overlords.  
This might even reveal amazing secrets to him that none of his online chat-buddies manage to uncover.  
Street lights were streaking over his face as he was lost in his thoughts, frozen like a statue.  
A shockwave broke his trance. All the world trembled around them for a brief moment.

He had no idea what was going on. And he realised neither was Ezro or even Jan.  
The car shook violently and tire screeching shrieked loudly as they were rocked in their seats. The force of deacceleration caused him to press hard on his backward seat. Embedding him to the cushions.

Ezro was sitting in a frontal directed seat and had to grab a nearby hand-hold to keep himself on his seat. He saw the first two cars before them coming to a halt.  
Tires stopped screeching and white clouds resulting from the cooked tires flew around their windows, creating a mist-like scenery.

The third car, which Ezro and Colin rode, came to a controlled stop. The driver was well trained in such ambush situations and he stopped the car close to the back of the other car, breaking the steer sideways to leave the vehicle in a diagonal position. This allowed the passengers to dismount from one side and be protected by the car in case the attackers had shooters in the back. A modern approach to the old wagon-castles.

The moment the car halted, Jan was already moving. They had trained well and she moved with methodical precision, not confused even for a second.  
She kicked a piece in the side of the seats and a compartment popped out. Her hand grabbed the grip of the Steyr AUG and slid it out from the container pocket.  
Beside the well packed gun stood magazines made from transparent plastic. She rammed one into the slot and cocked the assault gun.  
Colin watched as Ezro drew his M586 revolver and check the ammo. Ezro slapped the rotating cylinder into it's housing and pulled the hammer with his thumb. A click sound came, reporting readiness.  
Colin felt his heart sank into itself and ached with fear.  
As the realisation drew in on him he felt sick, his stomach churning. Things had just went bad.

Colin never been in real combat and never heard real gunfire. Even the sight of guns made him dizzy.  
And now there was a lot of guns.  
"What happened?" Ezro shouted at Jan.

Jan tapped on her ear-bead and stared blankly at Ezro. They waited in a locked stare as Jan was listening intently on the incoming news from her teammates.  
From her face Ezro understood that the next words she would say was going to be bad.  
"Dragon has found us." she said.

Colin was about to ask what that mean but the roof of the car thumped violently as large caliber rounds blasted on the armoured surface and glanced with violent noise.  
They all ducked instictively but Colin overreacted and had threw himself on the floor. He could feel the fuzzy covering of the car floor on his face.  
He pondered the idea if he was dead or not.  
The noise was so loud and terrifying that he nearly shat himself.  
"Get up." said Ezro pulling on his arm.  
No, apparently they were still alive.  
He looked up and saw the dents in the roof covering. The bullets weren't able to penetrate the armor of the car.  
"We are not dead." he rejoiced.  
"If we stay here we will be." Jan said.  
They watched as Jan opened the car door and peered out with her rifle aimed. Colin had blinked once and she had disappeared from the door, moving swiftly outside.  
She had stuck to the metal outer plating of the car, keeping low. The armoured car provided good cover for her. Nothing short of high caliber small arms round would puncture through the VALKYRIE's armoured cars.  
Her eyes darted around and spotted several shooters on the second storey of a now deserted office building.

The building was a three storey that was used as an office in the past. It had heavy brickwork on the walls and wide windows on the second store that made it ideal as a shooting spot.  
The first floor was set inside the building and made the second floor look like an enclosed balcony. The third floor had smaller windows that resembled sun-roofs or attic-windows.

"Second floor! Multiple shooters! Type unknown!" she shouted, both into her comm-bead and to warn their two passengers, who were out of the radio loop.

"Permissions?" came a voice in her ear. It was Agent Rasm.  
"Fire to kill." she replied.

Rasm had already taken firing position, aiming down with his P90. P90 was the perfect personal defense weapon. It carried 50 horizontal loaded bullets and was able to spring them into action with unprecedented speed.  
Agent Aliaksei was on point with him, taking covering behind another car. He had a STEYR in his hands and was already aiming at the shooters.  
Their suits were wrinkled as they placed one knee on the road and brace for firing.

Both men opened on full auto, brickwork exploded as two dozen bullets slammed onto it. Pieces of bricks fallen onto the pavement as return fire started.  
A round, hit one of the CHIMERA Operative in he shoulder bridge but his bulletproof vest prevented the massive wound. Still he must have felt the crushing agony in his arm as the force of the bullet travelled into his shoulder, tearing tiny veins and causing a painful wave of force in his flesh.  
The street had filled with the loud sound of gunfire as both sides opened fire, trying to get the upper hand.

CHIMERA Operatives had returned the favor of Rasm and Aliaksei with full auto of their own. Rounds blew over the cars, breaking into pieces as they struck the armoured cars.  
FN rounds had armor piercing capabilities and the members of the Dragon preferred the FN FAL as their rifle choice for this reason.  
However VALKYRIE cars were not fazed by their bullets and protected the Agents.

Jan ducked her head as rounds flew by, stabbing themselves into the road and throwing pieces of it around.  
She was evaluating the situation until now and had come to a decision as unit leader.  
She turned to the side, wanting to call Ezro and Colin but startled when she saw Ezro clinging close to her, with revolver in hand and ready.

When did he moved in and how long had he been just beside her, so close, she didn't know. And it made her realise that he just wasn't a random grunt. That made her content, that she made a right choice by stringing him along. She knew Colin would never step up to the challenge without Ezro.  
"It was a good decision." she confirmed herself.  
Up close she took a good look at him that wasn't possible in the dank interrogation room. Despite the gunfire and the chaos around them, he had a calm face. She knew he was accustomed to such things. The combat. The gunshots. The ever present possibility of death.  
"Even more than me." she realized.

However she felt there was something else behind his calm and uncaring expression. A reservoir of hate he could unleash.  
Just as if to prove her point, he aimed with his pistol and shot one of the shooters in the arm.

Shooter disappeared behind the brickwork and it was too far away to tell if he screamed or not.  
Other CHIMERA Operatives were waiting for a gun flash and they opened fire at Ezro. As rounds blew around him and Ezro took the que, sticking to the car like he was glued.  
He could feel the loud thuds and ricochet screeches from the car's metal surface.

Ezro realized that they were firing for effect, which meant that they had another card in play.  
"They have something in mind." he said.

"I know. This is the Dragon we are dealing with here." Jan replied.  
"I didn't know dragons used assault rifles." Ezro mocked as he waited for the gunfire to die down.

"In this day and age they do." she replied back.  
He was about to say something in return but realized a peculiar detail.  
"Where is Colin?" he asked and moved back to the car door, still crouching behind the hull of the car.

He found Colin sitting on the car floor, his arms clasping his drawn legs tightly as he shook violently.  
"Come on." said Ezro.

Colin looked at him with glaring eyes and shook his head quickly in rejection.  
"You need to get out." said Ezro, then thinking for a moment he realized that the inside of the car was safer than the outside.

"Bar that. Stay put. I'll come get you." he said.  
Colin didn't reply. He winced and clasped his ears with his hands as gunfire started again.

"What's the play?" Ezro shouted at Jan to be heard over the gunfire.  
Jan unloaded several rounds at the enemy before replying.  
"We have to get to safety. Hopefully they haven't seen you yet."  
"And if they did?"  
"Then they would hunt you as well." she replied.  
"Nice." said Ezro.

He saved ammo, didn't bothering with shooting anymore. All he could think now was how to persuade Colin to get out of the car, willingly of course.  
A trashing and screaming Colin would do them no favor while they try to stay undetected.

As he was pondering on this dilemma, Agent Cale led two armed drivers onto another gun spree.  
Rattling rapid fire of their P90's opened fire, creating a spectacle for Ezro. He was used to gunfire but VALKYRIE agents just sprayed at the enemy positions, breaking the building's wall apart.

It wasn't going to collapse anytime soon but the wall looked like swiss cheese as more rounds punched holes, spraying all around the building with brick and lead shrapnels.  
He had seen urban combat before, but the uncaring methods of VALKYRIE was something new to him.

What's shocking was that they fired with well trained precision. He quickly realized that none of these people were hired just for the show.  
However their enemy counterparts were also well trained. They knew when to duck and when to fire to use their protection.

In the War of 2013 he had seen poorly trained militia units spraying gunfire just for the effect. But this wasn't the case with VALKYRIE Agents.  
"You have something in mind?" he asked.

Jan didn't respond and kept watching at the enemy position. She had to keep constant tabs on the enemy so that she can judge the situation accordingly.  
If the enemy had something up his sleeve then it would be down to her to make the right call and save everyone's lives.

"We keep them down. You two bail." she said finally without looking at Ezro.  
"Affirmative." replied Ezro. Then he stopped to ponder on his reflexive response.

He had not said that in years. Not on the streets. And certainly not with the bounty hunting crowd he worked with.  
Was it is mass gunfire that snapped back a military response from him? Or did something in him just woke up?

Gunfire dinned down and that snapped Ezro back into the current moment.  
CHIMERA agents were peppered with rounds, taking several hits but their equipment kept them only bruised.

"Oh no." said Jan to herself.  
"What?"  
"Don't you smell that?" she said.  
Ezro sniffed.  
Nothing.  
"No I don't." he said.

Colin's head popped out of the semi-open door.  
"Why does it smell of iron?" he asked.  
Jan looked at him and smirked at Ezro.  
"You two are going to be just fine." she said, thinking that one complemented the other in skills.

"I still haven't..." began Ezro.  
"It smells of blood." she said.

"Oh, I get it. The iron and..." Colin abruptly stopped explaining when he realized what he was talking about.  
"We are in for it." Jan said bracing her rifle by placing the butt right in the small bevel in her shoulder.

A great howl took the air and the gunfight ceased.  
"This is bad." said Cale aiming his rifle from one window to another.

Another howl rose in the air, a wind took the air and a dark feeling fell on everyone. Even the CHIMERA operatives felt the chill of something primordial.  
A corruption that should not exist was in the vicinity. Something that made you feel weak and feeble. And you were.  
Weak indeed. You are weak. And you are prey.  
Your blood is his drink, your flesh is his meat. Such a beast had come.  
He is after you but you cannot escape. His breath feels over your shoulder, stroking your ear. Breezing the hair at your neck.  
His spit covered fangs hover above your soft flesh. Starving to bite in.  
He is faster than you. You cannot run.

A large shadow appeared over one of the roofs. Darkening moon was hiding behind grey clouds. Shining an unholy white light through them.  
Guttural and primitive was the howl. Like someone had torn a dog's throat with a piece of sharp metal and the beast was howling in pain.  
It was a merciless sound.

Colin covered his ears as the sound made his hair rise. Despite the ache in his ears, he managed to keep his fear in check.  
The mere howl of the beast was something to send chills down your spine.

"What is it?" asked Ezro placing his finger on the trigger without realizing it.  
Even he was tensed by the sound.

Jan pressed the ammo-release stud on her rifle and let the half-full magazine drop.  
"Dog, Twelve-High. Silver Rimmed." she talked into her ear-bead as she found a smaller sized magazine from her ammo pouch and sliding it into the slot.

Rest of the VALKYRIE agents did the same thing. Arming themselves with something that can do real damage against such a creature.  
Shadow atop the roof stood upwards and revealed a big humanoid shape. It's details were lost in the nightsky.

"Fire." Jan ordered and the VALKYRIE line blazed with loud gunfire. Colin ducked onto the asphalt road, embedding his cheek into the gritty black surface.  
The effect of the bullets were not visible to Ezro but he saw the giant shadow jerk as if disturbed by a dozen flies and lose it's balance.

With a great crash the thing fell onto a nearby parked car. The effect of the fall amazed Ezro. He had never seen such a thing. Whatever this thing was, it completely flattened the roof of the car.  
Sending hundreds of tiny pieces of broken safety glass all over the nearby street.

"We got it?" he heard Cale shout, his voice was filled with expectation and a tinge of fear.  
Jan opened her mouth to say something but CHIMERA gunfire started again and one of the VALKYRIE agent's slumped as a round pierced through his skull.

Someone shouted, reporting on the man's demise but Ezro only heard it muffled gibberish. Rounds flew around, glancing off the plating of the armored car.  
The sound was deafening and Ezro was virtually deaf to everything around him. There was a certain clarity to being deaf.  
Once all the distracting sound around you were whispers you saw everything more clearly. As if your brain worked the less input in a better way.

CHIMERA Operatives saw their beast fell onto the car and had changed their firing plan. Moments ago they were spraying to keep the VALKYRIE in place so that the beast can get into position. But now they were taking aimed shots, meaning to kill as many of their enemies.  
Which also involved Ezro and Colin.

In that moment of clarity Ezro saw a giant figure rising from the wreckage of the car. Beast was still alive. Despite the bullets, despite the fall that would kill a man five times over.  
Whatever this thing was, it wasn't normal.

It was giant. Twice a man's height and despite it's black and grey fur, it's heavily muscled frame was evident. His hands were furless, they were misshapen, gangrene-black hands. Fingers and knife long straight claws merged to look like hands made of machetes. It's claws were black closer to the flesh of the hand but at the sharp tips turned bonish cream-white.  
It's hands were disproportionate to his frame, making it look like giant swollen hands were grafted onto this creature.  
But Ezro had an inkling that those were his 'natural' hands.

He had never seen anything like it. As a man who spent his years as a soldier. Serving through tough times, he never imagined such a thing ever existed.  
He wasn't still sure if it did even now, despite the evidence being right in front of his eyes.

Gunfire was not new to him. Neither was the danger of imminent death. He had survive the last World War. He was used to such fears. But not to this. This kind of primitive fear.  
Fear tried to hard to found purchase on his soul. This, thing, before his eyes were something that existed for a longtime. In the olden past that was describes as ancient even to ancients, these beasts roam the land freely. Not secretly and hidden as in today, but they prowled and hunt on open plains.

Taking the world for themselves, being the apex predator of all creation. This was a feeling that a person would normally feel, upon seeing such a beast.  
But the horrible truth was that this beast before Ezro was not such as simple creature. It was twisted and manipulated to become docile. A monster made into a war-pet.

"W-w-wa..." he tried a question but his mouth stuttered too much to continue the sentence.  
He tried to rationalize what he was seeing. His mind found something deep inside and he tried to suppress this primordial fear with experience of combat.

He was under fire before. That waiting while bullets and other murderous devices exploded around. Sitting in a ditch, dust crawling all over your clothes and skin.  
It was similar. Not in a natural way, but this kind of deep fear was familiar to Ezro. He held onto that. And he made it through.

"It's a dog. One of CHIMERAS' slave troops." Jan replied, she wasn't firing on the risen beast. Ezro had no idea why. If he was able to throw over this blanket of fear he certainly would unload all his bullets on this thing.

"What's a dog?" asked Colin, lifting his head from the road to look at the commotion.  
He was glad that gunfire had stopped. He did not know why it stopped but he was glad.

Then he saw the giant hulking wolf-man standing atop the flattened car wreck.  
He wanted to scream but his jaw was clenched tight. Looking somewhere else was a good idea but it was impossible for him. His gaze was transfixed on the unnatural scene before him.

Was he saying something? Or was someone talking to him? He had no idea. All his thoughts were empty. His mind blank. In this moment he felt like drifting in a void of fear. How was it possible that I still stand here? Why am I not running away? Thoughts raced in his head without answers.

Jan realised that these two weren't able to get away if she doesn't intervene.  
She took aim and sprayed the wolf with 5.7mm FN rounds. Steyr rocked and spat as she fired one round after another. Moonlight shone on the rounds as the flew as if to emphasize a point.

Her silver rimmed rounds struck the beast and it recoiled. Not from the meager pieces of metal embedding into his flesh but from the silver rims coated around the tip in a circle. The ammo looked like a simple FMJ round with a silver line circling the tip of the round. Nobody would use such an ammunition on normal combat conditions.

But against this kind of beast it seared flesh and caused immeasurable damage. Not because of the kinetic impact or the piercing property of the round, but because on an ancient curse brought down by a terrible sin.

Beast recoiled slightly but managed to stay where he was. The rounds were not enough to harm it greatly, but they did their job. It warned the beast that he was to come no closer.  
And it also broke the Ezro and Colin from their trance.

"What is that thing?" asked Ezro finally reclaiming the control of his motor functions. His first act was to aim at the beast.  
But he didn't fire. He wasn't sure if firing at such a huge creature was the wise thing to do.

Colin managed to keep his bladder in and was clutching tightly at Ezro's shoulder, wrinkling his shirt with a bone white hand.  
"You people are out of here, now." roared Jan.

They numbly stared for a moment before obeying. Jan was alone behind the car as the two figures passed from one car to the next.  
Her gaze scanned the beast, taking all the information it can.  
A bloodwolf was bad. Real bad.  
This was going to be hard.

She aimed and shouted into her ear-bead communicator.  
"Dog. Everything you got."  
VALKYRIE agents in unison, aimed their guns at the towering BloodWolf.  
"Open fire!"

Two figures had just turned a corner into an alley when the rattling of many guns behind them started.


	7. Chapter 7

-7-

The monster was behind them. Neither had the time or the courage to look back.  
Seeing the beast from afar beforehand, Ezro had an imagining feeling of it's teeth, slick with blood and spit.  
His neck hair felt the hot breath of the beast.  
He wasn't able to turn his head to look but it was there. He was sure of it.  
How close was it? A metre? Less?

Both of them lived for years in this dangerous world. Ezro had seen combat in the military, his duty meant that each day could be his last.  
Colin on the other hand lived in one city or the other his entire life. In the so called "civil and safe" collection of human establishments.  
But the modern world was neither. Streets were filled with crime and accidents.

Right nowi both were learning a new meaning to being in danger. This feeling could not be learned in the modern world, in these times of technology and organization.  
No, not in any cityscape or conflict zones. This feeling was ancient. When the earth was younger and we were cattle for the predators.

This was the feeling of being the prey. Being chased by a purposeful hunter, to be killed and eaten. It was not the same as getting shot by a rookie enemy soldier who had a lucky spray of gunfire while shaking in fear.  
Nor was it by getting stabbed in a dirty alley by a mugger who just wants your phone or wallet to buy more booze.

They kept running without looking back. It was useless to look back. It was also useless to run but that was just instinct. Prey always ran.  
Against such a beast there was nothing else to do. No matter how futile the whole act of running was.

They passed through rows and rows of trash cans, arrayed near the walls. Some had fell over and littered the street with slick and sharp garbage.  
Ezro did his best to avoid stepping on any of them. But it was a daunting task.  
Right now of all the things, falling down would mean a certain end.

He instictively dodged the minefield of trash by stepping between them. Colin was better at running than Ezro. He hated the gym so spent time running as his daily workout. But this wasn't the tidy runner's mill, he slipped on a piece of slimy food leftovers and swore as he fell forward.  
Ezro realised his demise and tried to grab him but he missed the chance. Colin plunged on the floor and slid before coming to a halt.  
Ezro grabbed under his arm to lend a supprt when Colin came to a halt.

"Come on!" he shouted. "Get up!"  
"I'm trying!" Colin growled through teeth as he struggled to stand up.  
All his muscles felt locked from fatigue and fear.

The event broke the spell of fear on Ezro, now that they came to a halt it didn't matter to waste time on looking back.  
He was sure the beast would catch up in seconds. It was so close. He looked back.

The alley was empty, except the mess of garbage littering the floor.  
They were alone between the two walls of the alley.

He was sure the monster was right behind them. He had felt it's hot breath on his neck. But now he wasn't so sure. Had he imagined feeling it? Was fear causing it? Getting hold of his senses and producting made up feelings.

Somehow the emptiness around them scared him more than seeing a monster dashing at high speed.  
When he realised that they were running from nothing an ice cold chill gripped him.

His face was red with heat and they were both covered in sweat. But he felt cold inside.  
Like somesort of instinct telling him that things were not alright. That they were not alone at all.

Ezro knew in his guts that they were still in danger.  
He had no idea how, but he was certain.

"It's still coming." said Colin as he finally managed to stay upright, his groin was wet with piss.  
"You feel it too?" he asked.  
"Feel what?"  
"The cold."  
"No, man. I can still smell iron. That thing is still after us." said Colin motioning to run again.

Ezro wanted to grab his arm and stop him so he can ask about the iron, but this wasn't the time for semantics.  
The urgency of staying mobile was paramount. So he ran after Colin.  
They both had no idea what was after them. But they were certain about one thing. Whatever that thing was, it was beyond their caliber.

Ezro had seen the beast plunge onto a car from several storeys and still rise like it was nothing.  
A man would have his organs blow like a stepped on tomato but this thing didn't even faint under the shock.  
He was sure that his revolver would be useless if it came to that.  
He hoped it didn't.

=I=

"How are we to find this bitch?"  
Phoenix frowned angrily at his friend following him.  
"She is a he you moron, stop saying bitch."  
Phoenix was stupid enough to come up with a poor lie to tell their boss and now they had to go out onto the streets and find this person.  
"I am starting to regret having touched that Iranian bitch." murmured Phoenix.

"And how will you correct your mistake? You think he won't notice your obviously stupid lie once we brought the bitch to the Boss?" asked the thug.  
"That bitch thing again. I told you to shut the hell up and keep your eyes open." he growled back at the thug.  
Then he shrugged after a moment's thought, "I'll lie again. It might even be more pleasing to the Boss that we bring a woman back." he said dismissively.

"You don't know that. Boss was never predictable and you are going to fuck us up with your antics."  
"Shut up, asshole." said Phoenix shoving the thug at his shoulder.

The thug hurried behind him with a fearful face.  
"This is all your fault." he droned on. It was obvious that he neither wanted to be here or do this thing.  
His eyes darted from side to side fearfully as he followed Phoenix down the street.  
"If you didn't had fun with that girl none of this would have happened."  
"Shut your mouth." growled Phoenix, still he was in agreeance.

"And how are we to even bring her in? You saw what he did to Jacko. His flesh purpled after the beating he got."  
Phoenix grinned wildly, "Yeah, but I didn't have this before." he presented a Glock 17.

"Whoa! Are you sure about this? I mean we are already in deep trouble, but murder in this part of town?"  
"Stop being a pussy and follow my lead. We'll bring her in and let the Boss have his fun. Then we'll be off the hook."

"She could be anywhere." said the thug, he was obviously try to stall finding her as much as he can.  
It was clear that he wasn't into it, but was forced by the fear of Boss's wrath.

"She fought with her hands." pointed out Phoenix as if that revealed some significant information.  
"So what? She a boxer or something?"

Phoenix sighed at the stupidity of his friend.  
"No fuck-brain. How many martial groups you know within the city?"  
"Ummm..." thought the thug, he had no idea how many was there but the number shouldn't be that high.

But Phoenix knew. His only quality was that he knew the city and the people in it.  
"Ever heard of No-Chains?"

=I=

Chief Lou was brute of a man. His punches bent the giant punching bag despite the guy behind it holding it firmly. It wasn't just strength though. His technique was perfect. Every punch was throw with precision and control.  
He slowed down and aimed for his next hit, it landed with years of temperment and training.

Sweat flickered down Lou's muscled skin like small leaks of salty water, rivers of it trailed down between the valleys of his well formed muscles. But his breathing showed no signs of faltering. Despite his age, Lou was in peak physical performance.  
Sure he was getting old and his body was slowly dying with age. But he never let that inevitable fate of men to best him.

His short grey hair covered the crown of his head. He went bald at the top many years ago, but he refused to shave completely. The idea came meaningless to him. If he was old then he was old, a haircut would not change that fact.  
He never let it grow long either. It was cut short. Short enough to prevent it from tangling while fighting or to be grabbed by the opponent.

His grey crown of hair made him look like a grandpa, a very muscled and lean grandpa. But that wasn't a detriment to his image. Not that he cared.  
He was a grandpa after all. He never talked about his grandchildren but everyone knew about them.

Nobody dared ask about it. But sometimes when Lou got really drunk, he let out one or two comments about the joy of having grandkids.  
And how much it made him proud.

He glanced beyond the punching bag and saw a tall and powerful figure waiting for him. Ladlow had something to say to him. His attention didn't break as he laid another strong punch into the bag.  
She stood there patiently, respecting his concentration and waiting for him to take a break.

He wasn't going to. Lou didn't even felt the burn in his muscles so far, but he didn't want Ladlow waiting. So he pretended to take a break.  
The guy behind the bag threw him a towel. He grabbed it mid air and wiped sweat off his face.

There were talk between the No-Chains members that some stranger had talked to Ladlow but nobody knew what about.  
Lou haven't seen him either. He realised the stranger was not with Ladlow, she didn't brought the visitor along.  
"What's the news, Lad?" he asked.

"Something came up, Lou."  
"Oh?" he said raising a water bottle to his mouth.

"You need me for the night?" she asked.  
Lou had consumed the entire content of the small water bottle and put the plastic away.  
He smiled and grabbed the back of Ladlow's arm with two fingers. Squeezing her triceps twice, feeling the strong muscles between his fingers.

It was a physical habit that he couldn't resist doing.  
"I need you every night, Lad."

Ladlow shook her head with a grin. "Get real old man. I have some business."  
His face turned serious. "If you're in trouble just say..."

"No, I'm not. Someone asked for my help."  
Lou nodded his head several times as he thought on it.  
"Okay, us boys can handle this lousy place. It will be boring, I admit. But if you need any help, just ring. I'll be there." he said, letting go of her arm.

"Well, this place is we are going, it's outside the city."  
"What, you going to the Hills?"  
"No, farther."

"Damn, what work is this? You're going to a hunt or something?"  
"It's a rescue kind of thing." explained Ladlow.

Lou smirked.  
"Always the good girl, eh?"  
"Shut up, old man." she said.  
"I'm jesting." he said with an inviting open hand.

Ladlow grabbed it and felt his firm grip.  
"I know. Thanks Lou."

He didn't let go of her, still cluthing tightly.  
"Call if you need anything." he said, his face was serious but there was also a deep concern.  
Ladlow nodded.  
Lou realised his fatherly love for Ladlow, and with that came worry. "If something were to happen to her..." he didn't let the thought go on and forgot about it.

Lou saw the trenchcoated figure standing at the door, waiting for her. He looked at the shadow drenched figure over her shoulder, only a yellow street light made his silluette visible.  
"Good luck." he said to Ladlow.

=I=

At least a dozen screen lit the room. They formed an ambient light that revealed the lone figure sitting at the nexus of a computer behemoth.  
Mr. No-One was moving his way through the city's security network, tracking endlessly. Night drag on and so does his patience.  
His latest investments were an odd one. One he would not usually put faith in. But this time it was his only chance.

He scrolled through one security camera to the next. Private building cameras, city-wide CCTV, corporate CCTVs, it didn't matter. He had almost all the city's toys under his command.  
It had taken years to hack and code through the networks but now it paid back. Nobody would know he was in there, looking through the lens.  
Searching for those two.

The only problem was that they were in a poor part of the city, where the neighbourhoods didn't enjoy the privilage of being watched twenty four-seven.  
So the coverage wasn't great.

But there were always the smaller cams he could hack into. Phones, laptops, baby-cams. Took some more work with Wifi and bluetooth hacking. Jumping from one mobile to the next, stealing keys and using them to jump closer to the target.  
Finally getting the live streaming of some storage device meant to hold the security footage for later use, in case of breaking in or other mischief.

Getting closer. Always getting closer.  
No barrier would hold him back. No restriction would block his way.

=I=

"He looks dead." commented the guy standing next to the surgeon.  
Surgeon was wearing a mask that covered his mouth, elastic blue gloves and a surgery coat that had ties at the back.  
"That's because he is." he responded.

"But he is still moving."  
"Can you get out?" said the surgeon, irritated.

"No. I want to see this through." replied the guy.  
Surgeon sighed and turned to the corpse before him.

He started by inserting thin metal rods into the flesh. Rods had small wireless communication apparatus atop them that relayed data to a nearby terminal.  
Surgeon took a scalpel and slowly, carefully started to cut a straight line on the corpse's stomach.

Skin and pink flesh underneath parted like cut cheese as the sharp blade moved over it.  
Blood quickly followed but the surgeon was ready with an apparaus to siphon it away.

He locked the sucking tubes in place and let the rest of the blood drip away.  
Not that the man on the operating table needed blood, but it might hold value in the future.

And the surgeon didn't wanted to spoil anything needlessly.  
He was deep in his flesh and the stomach was in full view now.

Something inside started to move and bend the wall of flesh as if trying to get out.  
Person beside the surgeon held back a gag, but the surgeon himself was unfazed by the display.

"What's the damn purpose of this?" he asked the surgeon.  
Surgeon made sure that the rods were well placed as he replied "Don't you know?"

"I know, I know." he was hardly holding back his dinner down.  
"But the rods..." he added.

"When a man dies his brain sends out a last transmission to his muscles. A very tiny bit of charge remains on the synaptic ends. Which could give us a clue to what his last motive was before his demise."  
Surgeon realised the person had produced a napkin and was covering his nose from the stink coming from the open stomach.

It was disgusting, but the surgeon was well past beyond such recognition.  
"Forensic investigators does not care for such things. They want solid proof, like the murder weapon and don't care much about what the victim wanted to do when he was being killed."  
"But...for us his last desire sheds more light on our work than what killed it."

He cocked his head as if what he was going to say was quite apparent "We already know what killed him."  
Stomach bent and distorted as something pushed at it from the inside.

"I need to...get out." said the figure turning to leave and hurried to the door.  
He stopped when he grabbed the door handle.

"I hope you would give me a solid report on this, Mr. Azrael." he said, then pushed the door with full force and raced outside, escaping from the smell as quickly as he can.  
Azrael turned his attention back to the corpse.

His face was indifferent as he intently looked at the moving stomach.  
Then he turned to the terminal and looked at the green display of numbers.

"Interesting." he commented.  
"Very interesting..."

=I=

"It's coming!" shouted Colin as he saw the huge beast jumping from a balcony to another on the next building.  
It was in hot pursuit of is prey.

Bloodwolf jumped off the balcony and clawed into the wall, hanging off it, it's powerful claws struck deep into the wall and held him aloft.  
It let go and plunged onto the alley floor with force, crushing trashcans flat as it landed.  
Such a beast of power and size was not matched by either of them.  
They felt so little by the existance of it. Was such creatures really existed? It was right before their eyes. But their mind rejected the phenomenon before them.

"Run, just run!" Ezro roared as he dashed.  
They both were already running at full speed but all their hopes of having some distance between themselves and the beast ended when the Bloodwolf started sprinting on all fours.

It was a big creature but it wasn't lumbering. No human to escape it on foot.  
Ezro and Colin was too scared to look back and saw the immense speed of the beast. But they kept running.

It was a moot endevour, the beast was upon them within seconds.

=I=

"No, not this one." he said dismissing a screen that popped up on his side-screen.  
"Nah."  
"Nope."  
"No."  
"Nooooo."  
He made faces as he cycled through cameras to get a good view.  
"Just where the fuck are those two?"  
"Here?"  
An empty alley.  
"Nope."  
"Here?"  
A homeless sleeping on a dirty matress.  
"Nope"  
He continued to play through his digital landscape as if it was a game. Moving through the electrical landscape of the city.  
Image recognition programs ran on city's Police CCTV and commercial-grade personal security cameras. Voice recognition programs checked the mics of laptops, mobile devices and even personal recorders for a matching voice sample.  
An entire network of zombie devices worked tirelessly to find them for No-One.

Maybe he should be worried, but he wasn't. He had no idea in what condition they were in. His investments that is.  
Were they in mortal danger? It didn't matter, he would find them.  
He flicked away another window on his touch-screen that showed a couple having sex. It was completely visible through the city's CCTV.  
"Priorities." he reminded himself.

"Where are they?" he asked to himself. Screens flashed before his eyes as one window was dismissed after another. Last one didn't flash away. It stood in front of his face.  
"Aha." he said, tapping his chin with a finger.

"There you are, people."  
He had found them.

=I=

"A fence? A god damn fence!" shouted Colin as he pounded on the fence wall as if he was trying to will it away by pounding on it.  
Their path was barred, from one wall to the next fence stood before them several metres tall. It's top was razor wired.

To their luck this building had owners that afforded this protection against the homeless, preventing them from sleeping in their alleys.  
There was no way to get past it. The locks were also automatic, night cycle had locked the gate shut.  
Colin banged his fists at the wired fence in hopelessness. It was no use. The beast was on their heel and time was running out fast.

"What do we do?" shouted Colin.  
Ezro looked around searching for a way out.  
But there was none.

He looked for any doors, sewer entrances or ladders they could try but there was nothing to help them.  
Razored wire on the top made it impossible to climb over. Throwing a cloth over the top was an option but the newly commercialized razor-barbed wire was too dangerous as they had a good chance to cut through the cloth as the pressure build. They needed something thick and heavy to get across safely.

He looked around for anything that could be useful, but it was futile.  
"Can't you do something about the lock?" Ezro asked, remembering the Colin picking a lock back in his apartment.

"Cheap ass tenement locks are one thing, special security lock are another." Colin replied, his face white with fear.  
"Okay, here is what we do. I'll throw you on the fence." said Ezro connecting his fingers so that Colin could be propelled upwards.

"Are you crazy? Those are razor sharp." Colin rejected the idea of getting his flesh shredded.  
"You want to die?" asked Ezro throwing a look at the alley where the beast was rampaging towards them.

It was impossible to get through without a scrath. But was it really worse than getting torn apart alive?  
"Okay, okay. Here I go." said Colin moving to jump on Ezro's grip.

He was about to step on his locked hands as a click sound came from the lock and the door rotated open on it's weight.  
"It's open. It's goddamn open." shouted Colin.

Without a word, Ezro grabbed his sleeve and dashed into the door, slamming it aside.

They passed through the fence wall but they did not had time to close it back.  
It wouldn't stop the beast anyhow.  
With the force of the slam the door reeled back into place but it was still unlocked.

A cling sound came and the gate locked itself behind them.  
But the duo wasn't in any condition to realise their fortune. They were too busy running for dear life.

Beast crashed into the fence and tore it with it's two huge claws. Shredding through the wire door without effort.  
Those split seconds that Bloodwolf wasted on shredding the door gave them time to run.  
"Just as I thought." Ezro reflected grimly as he saw the beast easily breaking through the fence, he wished he was wrong on this one.

Froth spilled at the sides of the beast's mouth and it's sharp teeth was slick with eager saliva. It started sprinting once it got past, the time they won was evaporating quickly.

Road split before them leading into two different directions. A wrong turn would mean their end.  
Two alleys, one had another fence wall to their left while the other was empty, it made a sharp right, not revealing what's ahead.  
Simple logic would dictate right as it was empty, but Colin had a feeling in his gut when he saw the fence on the left alley.  
"Go left." he shouted and ran.  
"Are you crazy?" Ezro said but there was no time to debate.

Despite the madness it seemed to be, it was the right choice. The right alley lead into a dead end garbage dump.  
Colin had made a right call and the wire-frame door once again opened, letting them pass and closed behind them as they made it through.  
Beast wasn't expecting the first one to close but this time it was prepared. It slammed into the wire-wall shoulder first, crashing heavily into it. The wire wall bent like a plastic water bottle, standing it's form for a brief second before submitting to the sheer magnitude of the force and tearing apart.  
The screws that kept the fence in place was this first things to succumb to the enourmous driving mass of the creature and tore away from the walls where they were embedded, showering tiny bits of cement everywhere.  
Entire wire-wall had came down before the charging beast.

Despite the terror Colin realised a familiar ringing in his pocket. Someone was calling? Now? Really?  
He wasn't wasted the effort to reply or even reach for it. Running took all his breath. But despite his burning lungs he ran before Ezro, ignoring the shaking in his pocket.  
"Hello?" came a dry robotic voice from Colin's pocket.

"What?" said Colin.  
"Take me out, please." said the pocket-voice.  
Colin took the phone out and saw a white/black mask face on the screen.  
"No-One." he said gasping for air as he ran.

"No, it's me." said Mr. No-One.  
It wasn't clear if he was joking or not, the mask stayed in it's anonymous expression.

"You're in big trouble." he added.  
"Help us!" shouted Ezro, his face sweaty from all this running.

"First things first, I know VALKYRIE got hold of you and I know you two are charged with bringing in the scripture. " mask floated on the screen without a facial expression, expecting a reaction from the duo.  
When No-One realised that the two guys were too busy running he added "I want it."

"Now is not the time for bargain, help us." said Ezro.  
"Oh, but no. This is exactly the time for bargaining, Mr. Delano." said the white/black mask.

"Fine, whatever you want, just help us." said Ezro.  
"And how do I know you will keep your word?" asked the mask.

Before they bothered giving an answer, Ezro saw an opening and a way leading into a construction site.  
"There. To the building." he said, pulling Colin towards the incomplete building.

"Don't! I can't help you in there. It's...It's too" said No-One looking for the right word "...primitive." he finished.

They passed through girders and piles of various construction material.  
As predicted the high tech gadgets of the city reduced considerably within the construction yard. Which made No-One powerless.

At that moment a revelation struck Ezro as to why No-One wanted to strike a bargain with them. Remembering how away and remote Longwill was from the maps he saw back in the VALKYRIE base, he understood that there was scant technology for No-One to manipulate at Longwill.

"What a remarkable revelation." Ezro thought, reflecting on their impending death and the eventual meaninglessness of the revelation once they became food for that monster on their tail.  
"What now?" asked Colin as they charged up the grey cement stairway that was not complete.

"Up, just up." said Ezro. He ordered around like he had a plan.  
He didn't.

After running several storeys, jumping two or three steps at a time, they came to stop.  
Both of them were exhausted. Luckily the stairs were too tight for the beast to fit through.

"Have..." Colin gasped for air as he laid on his back, trying to breath "...have we?" he asked a half-complete question.  
"I don't think so." Ezro replied realising the obvious meaning.  
The beast would not quit the chase so easily.

"Damn it." swore Colin. He just wanted this nightmare to be over.  
In the same day he was chased away from his home, interrogated brutally, got shot at and chased to death by a monster from the fantasy novels.  
He wasn't having a good day at all.

"Are you two done running?" asked No-One staring up to the ceiling from the screen of the flatly lying smartphone.  
"Yes." replied Colin, "help us." he added without rising up. He was just starting to catch his breath.

"I will help you, but I need that scripture in return." No-One said.  
"What's the deal with that damn thing anyway?" asked Ezro. He realised that even VALKYRIE didn't informed them on it, other than that they wanted it bad.

"Well, now that's classified." said No-One with a straight masked face but it felt like he was trying to joke.  
"No, seriously. It is an old artefact that no faction hungry for power should have." he added.

"Artefact?" asked Colin.  
"A book, more precisely." added the white/black face.

"A book?" Colin was shocked.  
It was ridiculous. All this commotion was for a book?

"Yes, a bestseller. Right next to 'Jesus' Secret; An Amazing Revelation' on the bookkie shelves."  
"Quit joking and get to the damn point." blasted Ezro.

"Alright alright." mask swam on the screen intimidating a shrug-like motion.  
"Longwill is an old document, alright? It was written by some old-timer that is long dead. But what's written inside is quite a thing. If someone were to decipher it's secrets terrible things could happen."  
"Terrible?" asked Colin with a tinge of fear in his voice.  
"What kind of terrible?" asked Ezro.

"Beast that was chasing you for the past five minutes is a cute kitten compared to what's inside Longwill. That kind of terrible." said Mr. No-One.  
He waited silently on the screen while the two had their faces drain of blood and a cold chill ran down their spine.

As if to ram the point home, a chilling howl drove through the night and reached them like a bad omen.  
Colin could smell the iron in the air. And fear gripped them like nothing else. It clung to their skin and felt heavy on their shoulders.

Being prey was tense. Being hunted and being powerless against it was worse. Despite all he went through in his years of military service, now was a rare moment when he wanted to get into a fetal position and lie down, waiting to be killed.

Every tone in the beast's voice screamed of their hopelessness and it rang in their minds over and over again.

"Run." he said to Colin. They both dashed up the stairs and pushed a trolley into the doorless stairway, Blocking the path however they can.

No-One looked at the makeshift blockade they made and shook his head.  
"You guys are fucked. That thing buys you two seconds or so."

"You aren't any help, so shut up." said Ezro.  
"Who do you think saved your ass back there? Closing the gates, remember?"

"That was you?"  
"Well, who else?" replied No-One.

"I knew you wouldn't abandon us, Mr. No-One." said Colin his voice was full of expectation and awe.  
"Well, your friend here is making things awfully hard for me." complained No-One.

Colin turned to Ezro "He is trying to help, who cares if we give the Longwill to him."  
"VALKYRIE does. Remember those guys back there? The heavily armed ones?"

Colin thought on it for a moment.  
As they were wasting time away, trolley suddenly lurched and toppled over. Bloodwolf's head was visible atop the toppled trolley, it attacked the metal cart with rage.  
Tearing apart the feeble metal and wheels with it's long black claws, ripping them apart with screeching noises. It growled and bit air as it trashed the trolley, trying to get it out of it's way.

"Oh boy, you two need help. And now I am available for offers." said the mask.  
"Do you even have a backup plan for this Longwill? I mean people beside us." asked Ezro he was already running and Colin stood dumbly around before realising he was alone and followed.

"Sure, plenty of..."  
"Then why are you trying to strike a deal here? Go let them take care of it." snapped Ezro.

"Well...okay, I don't have a lot of friends here. But I got people on payroll."  
"Ah, so this thing is important that you can't trust paid thugs. You need someone trustworthy."

"You are making this awfully hard, Mr. Delano."  
"I would be useless in bounty hunting business if I wasn't able to find leads or motives. People are elusive." he said.

A ringtone-like clapping sound came from Colin's phone as two animated white-gloved floating hands made a clapping animation before the mask.  
"Very good, Ezro. Very good. Now...let's be serious for a moment. I need your help, you need mine. Do I need to say more?"

"And the VALKYRIE? What do we do about them?"  
"Pfft, they'll blow off. CHIMERA is wiping them out as we speak anyway. They played their last card."

Ezro wasn't sure if this was true of not. But the beast was after them. What happened back there with Jan and her crew? Were they dead? Killed by this monster?  
"So what is your game?"

The mask turned to a black/white Pacman, it's mouth opened and closed as it chewed empty pixels.  
"I want the Longwill."

"Why?" asked Ezro.  
"Why indeed." answered Mr. No-One elusively. Pacman had turned back to the expressionless mask.

"Is it really that important? Who cares what they want with the damn thing." said Colin.  
"It is to me. I want to know what it does and why everyone wants it so bad. They ask for our help Colin. Two strangers who had no idea what is going on. Doesn't that strike you as suspicious?"

"Well...yea." said Colin, he didn't ponder the idea before, but now it was clearer to him.  
"So, face-mask. Why do you want it?" asked Ezro to Colin's smartphone.

"Ugh..." sighed the mask.  
"I want it so that I can destroy it."

"Destroy?"  
"You heard me, genius. I want it to be gone."

"An old book. And you want it burned? What could be written inside that armed organizations and hackers want it so bad?"  
"Look, you just need to know that I am the good guy here." said Mr. No-One.

"Yeah, that's what VALKYRIE said."  
"I want it gone so that people like VALKYRIE can't get hold of it."

"How can an old book be that important? This is the capitalist age. Old stuff are...well...old. With the whole world looking into new and shiny, why do you people seek this tome or whatever?"  
"It holds terrible evil."

"Ah, enough with this 'good-guy' and 'terrible evil' crap. Just tell me what do you buy with it."  
"It doesn't buy anything. As you said it, it's an old tome. Nothing more."

"Yeah, right. I have a feeling I will be figuring what is inside in a bad way."  
With that Ezro ignored the mask and focused on running up the stairs into another flat.

"VALKYRIE promised him to you didn't they Ezro?"  
Question stopped Ezro dead in his tracks.

He turned to look at the face floating on the smartphone screen.  
"I don't know who you are talking about."

"Right, you don't my ass. Get real, tough guy. I'm talking about him. "  
Ezro stood motionless, not giving a hint.  
"Oh, I get it. Your friend Colin doesn't know about your bargain with the VALKYRIE."

"What bargain?" asked Colin, suddenly aware that he was the focus of the talk.  
"It's nothing." said Ezro.

"No it isn't. Tell him Ezro. Tell him what you expect from VALKYRIE in return for the Longwill."  
Ezro kept silent.

"You made a deal with them? Why didn't you tell me." Colin said.  
"I didn't had the time to say anything. Besides it doesn't concern you."

"Oh, there is a giant wolf trying to eat us and it doesn't concern me? Bullshit!" shouted Colin.  
"Tell me right now about this deal or I walk." he threatened.

"Why do I care, Colin? Do I really need you?" said Ezro.  
Colin thought this for a moment.

"I guess you don't." he said. He wasn't sure if it was a good thing or bad. He could go home. As long as Ezro brought the Longwill to VALKYRIE nobody would care.  
"Oh, actually you do." interrupted Mr. No-One.

"Colin." he said and Colin looked into the mask on his smartphone screen.  
"Ezro wants someone called Azrael. He is an old enemy that caused him pain. He promised to deliver Longwill to VALKYRIE and in return he will learn about his whereabouts." said the mask.

"Azrael?" asked Colin. Then the realisation dawned on him.  
The murderer from the video.

"The alien!" he shouted in anticipation.  
"They grey!"

"The what?" asked Ezro.  
"Agent of the Overlords. Oh damn, I knew there was something to all this ruckus. I fucking knew." said Colin.  
Blood had rushed to his head and the tired expression was drained away. Leaving a very energetic and eager Colin, instead of a scared and resented one.

"I have no idea what this guy is talking about." said Ezro, shaking his head.  
"I do. Yes, Colin. This is a big step towards the Overlords. And Ezro will be in the thick of it. Now, the question is...are you up for it?"

"Oh course I am." shouted Colin.  
"What overlords?" asked Ezro, his question went ignored.

"This will be hard, Colin. And dangerous." warned Mr. No-One.  
"I'm ready for anything." said Colin. Feeling real courageous. Stupidly courageous.  
"I have waited and searched for this all my life."

"Colin, I need you to stick by Ezro, no matter what. He will be an asset to us. And he doesn't know this yet, but he will need you in the future."  
Colin bobbed his head with a large smile on his face. His life once again took meaning. And this time it was big. His fear bleed off, leaving him with excitement and newfound purpose.

"Uh...does anyone going to care what I think?" asked Ezro.  
"Mr. Delano, you are mistaken thinking that VALKYRIE will give you Azrael. But I can. If that's what you want."

Ezro looked at the smartphone as if it was an enemy.  
"How do you even know about Azrael?" he asked. His voice bled of anger and he felt weak now that his vulnerability was exposed.

"No-One knows." said the mask.

"Fuck you and your games. Answer me this instant."  
"Okay, Delano. Don't get riled up. I am Mr. No-One. That means I go wherever I want, learn whatever I want, whenever I want. But know this. VALKYRIE will dump you the moment you give the Longwill to them."

Ezro knew about this. He had the feeling that VALKYRIE wasn't going to play nice once they got what they want. The legal side of things was the least of his worries.  
"I don't care if they kill me. They can't do jack shit to me otherwise."

White/black mask shook as in disagreement. "There are worse fates than dying, Delano."  
Ezro struck dumb, standing there, feeling he was helpless and alone. He had to do this. He wanted Azrael. He wanted to grab that man by the throat and choke the living life out of him.  
But he realised the truth that VALKYRIE didn't needed to keep their promises. They could just shoot him in the back of the head and dump him in wet cement.

And worse than death, Azrael would still walk free. He had seen the video, Azrael was still at work. He was still killing people. Innocents, mothers, fathers, kids.  
"And why should I trust you?"

"Are you mad? He is talking about Overlords openly, of course he is trustworthy. I don't remember VALKYRIE talking about Overlords. Damn clone-slaves!" said Colin.  
"I want the Longwill destroyed. So once it's gone, I don't have to fear you talking anyone about it. But VALKYRIE can't let you walk after you get hold of the scripture. Once they get it, they need to erase anyone who was in contact with it."

Ezro thought on this.  
"Okay, you convinced me. But know this. If you cross me, I will make it my personal agenda for the VALKYRIE to get that book."

"Fair. I hope this begins a good relationship, Mr. Delano."  
Ezro grunted.  
"Now, help us out here. We are no good to you dead." he said as he caught the searching sounds of the bloodwolf down below.  
It didn't take long for the Bloodwolf to caught their scent. The construction materials all around made it harder, but the wolf was on their trail again.

"The beast, it's highly sensitive to smell. I hope this piece of info helps." said Mr. No-One.  
Ezro looked around trying to find a way to use something as a smell weapon.

"It's coming!" alarmed Colin.  
A giant black claw clanged onto the metal surface, shredding into it like it was paper as it found purchase. It had climbed the metal beams from outside the structure.  
It was far faster than using the stairs but it was also an inhuman task to accomplish.

Bloodwolf's giant stature was impressive even from a distance.  
However the time he spent on climbing gave Ezro the right interval.

As the beast started it's charge down the unfinished flat, Ezro aimed up to the group of elevated cement bags. He fired once, blowing the crane and dropping the entire contents of the lifter.

Packages of cement dust fell onto their floor and exploded with force. A grey cloud has engulfed the beast. One of the bags fell towards his head but the beast was quick.  
It caught the bag in his mouth and bit down as if it was a hapless lamb. Bag punctured and blew sideways, showering all over the beast's fur with grey powder.

Ezro caught a glimpse of disappointment in the beast's expression, as if it was expecting hot blood and meat instead of tasteless dust.  
However things went just as he expected. Beast was engulfed in the cement powder and was trashing around violently as he tried to empty his nostrils from the burning feeling.

Not just it's nose but mouth and eyes were also burning from the compound. It's coarse rough texture made the sensation a torture.  
Giant monster wailed and trashed around as they watched in horror.

It was so quick, so powerful. Bloodwolf crashed into beams of girders, bending them with it's great strength. Toppled cement mixers down and finally fell on it's face as it stepped on a pile of round metal wires.

It growled and slashed at things it touched, tearing them apart with it's powerful claws. The straight blade fingers weren't that sharp, Ezro realised that it was beast's raw strength that made the jagged but deep cuts in the cement walls and iron plating.

"We should run." he told Colin.  
Colin bobbed his head in agreement, but before they could move the beast raised it's black claws towards his own head.

They watched in horror as the Bloodwolf slashed across his own forehead and dark red blood spilled forth, over it's eyes and nose. Dripping on the floor.  
Ezro and Colin both was nailed in place as they watched the horrid spectacle before them, forgot all about running.

Blood velled into the beast's eyes and it started licking it's nose, pushing drops of blood inside the nasal cavity. It gurgled and with a blood spurt snorted the cement dust out.  
It's eyes had become a light pink color from the blood but with each blink it cleaned more of the cement.

The cut on his head had already healed shut so the wolf cut it open again, letting more blood flow onto it's face.  
Within the minute it was back on it's feet, eyes locked onto the two prey humans.

They on the other hand were locked in place, too terrified to move.  
Ezro's mind screamed for him to run away but he felt his muscles were frozen, not moving an inch.

Bloodwolf launched at them, fangs begging for hot flesh, claws ready to deliver death.  
A heavy-duty lifter sped towards the coming beast and collided into it mid-path.

There was no one driving the construction vehicle but it moved with a purpose. Normally the beast was strong enough to just topple the construction vehicle but the suddenness of it caught it surprised.  
Machine and the beast slid to the edge of the flat and fell down. With a great howl the monster crashed into the fast coming ground.

Ezro and Colin ran to the side, broken free of the paralysing fear and looked down at the rising smoke where the beast supposedly fell.  
Bloodwolf rose, with one arm bent in a wrong way. Beast touched it's broken arm but then paid no attention to it, as if it was a flesh graze.

Wolf-featured beast looked up, locking onto the image of two prey up onto the metal tower.  
It wanted to pursue it's food. Wanted to capture the two weaklings and taste their blood.

But instead the giant beast shook slightly as if suddenly was very irritated by something. Something inside it.  
It twisted its head as if bearing pain then a second later it turned back and ran into the alleys, disappearing without explanation.  
Leaving the duo standing there.

They looked into the corner where the wolf-monster disappeared to, expecting it to pop back out any second. Their waiting was cut short when Mr. No-One prompted them by shouting "Anything good on?"

His voice was so high it startled them.  
They looked at each other in amazement.

"This day is just the weirdest thing." said Ezro.  
Colin bobbed his head in agreeance.

=I=

They had left the construction site and everything behind as they made their way to the Jan's contact.  
Ezro still believed that this contact held true. Despite whatever might happened to Jan back at the shootout.

"What was that?" Colin jumped as a car engine roared loudly as it went away.  
They were still on edge despite being far away from the scene. Ezro made sure that nobody was able to track them, going through the places that were crowded.

He didn't know this part of the city that well, but it was easier to get aligned once you know the soul of the city.  
Follow where the people are walking towards. Go to where it's brightest. Listen to the car sounds.

All the streetlights shone red, blinking every second. This late at night even the roads allowed free passage.  
This wasn't a well populated or particularly exciting part of town. But it was still busy with noise.  
A car with an upgraded engine accelerating hard. Some drunk shouting blabber from a window. Police patrol suddenly roaring past, lights blazing.  
Despite the night, city lived on.

People went to sleep instead of spending money outside. But Ezro knew his way around.  
A red bus with an advertisement on the side took them in. Travelling down the long road and bringing them closer to their contact.

"Is this place?" Colin asked. Unsure if this dump was where they were supposed to be.  
They left the bus behind and had walked to this place. But now that they were here it felt like a bad idea.  
It looked like a garage or a workshop from the outside. A place where you go to have people fix the car or change tires.  
But this place didn't looked so appealing. If someone where to tell Colin that the building had survived a nuclear blast he might believe it.

The color had drained off from the walls. Rust had taken hold of anything that was once metal. Even the wire fence surrounding the place had holes in it, allowing stray street dogs free passage.  
A homeless guy slept on the far side of the building. Huddled in his cocoon of blankets.

If Colin wasn't shaken and terrorized from everything that had happened to them, he would be after coming here.  
In the distance fireworks blew one after the other, making the boy jump in place.  
Ezro put a hand on his shoulder "Easy."  
Colin bobbed his head "I know. Lead on."

Ezro looked at the file he got from Jan to doublecheck if this was the right place. Despite the verification of the file he couldn't still believe they would find anything useful here.  
"This is the place." he said moving forward.  
Colin took a deep breath to steady his heartbeat, then followed suit.

"To be honest, there wasn't much information on..." was saying Ezro when he heard a voice called out.  
"You there, stand still and state your business." said the voice. A barrel of a shotgun was poking out of a barred window with a well placed gap to leave a firing hole.

Ezro didn't held his hands up, he wasn't instructed to.  
"Does the name Jan mean anything to you?" he asked towards the window. He wasn't able to see who was taking them at gunpoint. But he dared not make sudden moves, it wasn't clear if this guy was alone or not.

After a long pause came a reply.  
"No, it doesn't"  
"Well, what about VALKYRIE?" said Ezro.  
"Never heard of em."

"Yeah, me neither. But you see we are here for a car. Someone told us to come here." he said.  
Gun waited like it was frozen, then it retracted inside.

Ezro turned his head to gave a look at Colin.  
"I guess we are invited?" said-asked Colin.

"We are coming in." shouted Ezro to make sure everything was perfect.  
His hand hovered over the holster of his revolver despite the invite.

The old wooden door let them in as Ezro pushed at it. Revealing a dark and dirty interior.  
They went it into the dark room, not closing the door behind them to provide some light in.

A door from an adjacent room opened and the owner of the shotgun entered. He pulled at a chain dangling from the ceiling and lit a dozen lightbulbs all over the place.  
The lightbulbs flickered and sizzled before giving out a stable stream of light into the dirty room.  
"This is my place. Who sent you here?" he asked, not aiming the shotgun at them but also not putting it aside.  
He was cautious and it was quite normal this late at night.

Ezro presented the file to the man, who looked like homeless person himself. He had a wide white beard that was stained with black machine oil in places. His red overalls were dirty as they can get. And his teeth went yellow from too much smoking.  
He glanced at the paper then let it fall to the ground. He turned to the door and walked away.

They followed the creepy old man and went down with a wide elevator. The elevator had no safety rails and it had a curiously expensive electronic lock to operate it.  
The lock seemed very out of place within this dump but as the elevator reached down they realised not to judge a book by it's cover.

The basement was wide as the entire building up top. There were five technicians working on different types of vehicles. Selection of vehicles were mind boggling. A very expensive sports car was being fitted with gun holsters at the doors and the seats were removed so that under-seat compartments could be installed.

A truck was getting an engine upgrade using some equipment Ezro never saw before. A technician who was blazing away sparks with a blowtorch paused his work as the elevator slowly descended and was at the same height at him. He looked at the duo judgingly, then returned to torching.

Elevator clanged down and the old man slid the door aside.  
"What is this place?" asked Colin, amazed with all the work going on.

From the outside it was an abandoned workshop where hobos slept. But inside was a secret workshop for special orders.  
"This is where we make it happen." the old man said as he walked away.

"Happen what?" asked Colin walking behind him.  
"The magic." he said holstering his shotgun at a wall-rack.

"I should ask, are you VALKYRIE?" said Ezro.  
Old man turned to look at him then glanced at the workshop around them to make a point. The place was old and much used, the products certainly was impressive but the workshop itself looked old and worn out.  
"Do we look like VALKYRIE to you? No, we are our own thing. But we trade with the outsiders to keep a flowing income."  
Ezro looked uncertain about who these were.

"We might not look like it, but we're fucking rich." said the old man with a grin.  
"You don't have much security for a rich person. How do you protect this place? I mean your grandfather's shotgun was able to deter us, but it won't stop others." said Ezro.

With a grin, old man said "This is a world of shadows and you expect to see everything in plain sight?"

He showed them to a car that was really out of place with the other ones. This one was dirty and rusted on the doors. It had all it's glass on but they were dirty with something white.  
"Does it work?" was the first question Ezro asked.

"Sure it does." answered the old man taken aback.  
"Well...it looks a bit..." said Colin.

"Haven't you learned anything by coming here? Looks isn't everything. The engine is checked, tires are solid and the framework is okay."  
"It still looks like we stole it from a wreckshop." said Ezro.

"Yes, but you two would look completely normal driving it." said the old man, lighting a smoke.  
"That's rude, old man." said Ezro as a dry joke.

"Well, this is what VALKYRIE arranged for you. Take or leave."  
"VALKYRIE are cheap bastards." said Colin.

"If it gets us where we need to be then it's okay. But I don't feel that vibe from this vehicles right here." said Ezro.  
"You aren't bargaining with me. The car works. Believe me." said the old man raising his palms to shot honesty.

"We are on a mission from VALKYRIE, and if this car breaks down prematurely, they will be all over your ass."  
"It won't."

Ezro lifted up the hood and was surprised how well the engine was. Old man wasn't lying. The vehicle had a good maintenance throughout.  
"So this is like a camouflage." he said.

Old man nodded. "VALKYRIE didn't contact us directly. So it means you had problems coming here."  
Ezro looked at him, trying not to give any hint of what they went through to get here but he knew that the old man had read them like a book.

"Let me guess, CHIMERA found them out." said the old man smirking. All the garage went silent. The banging of hammers and flying sparked ceased as the technicians stopped working near simultaneously.  
"That means even if I don't hand you the car, there will be no reprimand for us."

Ezro's hand slowly moved towards his pistol while Colin walked a step back from the old man.  
"Just kidding. We don't cheat customers. How else are we to do business with a neutral standing?"

Ezro relaxed as the situation dissolved. He grabbed the keys thrown at him.  
"It's gassed up and ready to go. Use the back tunnel, it opens automatically. Now, get the hell out of my shop and stop hindering our work." said the old man walking away.  
He was done with them.

"It's so dirty." complained Colin, looking at the dust covered seats. Ezro turned the keys and the engine ignited. The exhaust pipe coughed as it started for the first time in a while, puffing out dust and grey smoke.

"Get in." he ordered.  
Colin looked at the seat, unsure.

Ezro bent over and swiped off some of the dust with his coat arm.  
"Now get the hell in." he said, putting the gear.

Colin sat down unwillingly, he didn't wanted to stay in this hostile and creepy garage any second longer.  
"I had no idea there was this many weird people in this city." he commented.

"Well, I knew the city was fucked, but I never had the power to enter these circles before and see the fuckedness with my own eyes."  
"I've seen things before all this, asking around gets you to places. But this is a whole new game for me." said Ezro as he put the car in gear and rode on.

A sensor on the wall detected them coming through and automatically opened the segmented garage door by rolling each part on top, making a nice stack as it rolled upwards.  
The door looked heavy and armoured, not the usual public ones. This place was well protected and very technologically advanced despite the shabby look.

This tunnel was well made and sturdy. Iron columns supported it as perfectly smooth cement walls covered it. Ezro realised from his military mind-set that this place was well protected for anything short of heavy precise bombardment.

They reached another door and it opened automatically as well. Cameras recorded as they passed through it and as they left the tunnel into open sky.

"Here we go, Colin. Two strangers who just met. In a metal heap we might barely even call a car. To someplace we both just heard of."  
"I wonder what we will find there?" asked Colin.

"Trouble?"  
"It can't be that bad, city is the worst."

"True, but still this place should be quite the problem if no one..." he stopped and changed his phrasing "no body would be willing to go there themselves."  
"You don't like No-One." said Colin.

"Sure I don't. Hiding behind screens doesn't inspire a lot of trust in people."  
"He is okay. I know him."

"From where?"  
"Umm. From internet." replied Colin.

"So you don't know him." pressed Ezro.  
"Well, I do know his work. He is good at it."

"Good at what?"  
"Uncovering stuff. Releasing info and that kind of stuff."

"So he is a spy."  
"Well...I never thought of it that way. But..."

"Every spy is on a payroll from someone, Colin."  
"No, he is not. He is with the people."

"And who are these 'people'?"  
"You know. The innocents. Civilians and such."

Ezro gave him a funny look.  
"Nobody is innocent, Colin. I've learned that over my career in the military and in the bounty hunting business."  
"I am." rejected Colin.

"That...remains to be seen." said Ezro more to himself.  
"Fuck you." said Colin looking out the window, acting like ignoring Ezro's presence.

"Now, that's the spirit." said Ezro with a smile.  
"You're just pushing my buttons to annoy me." said Colin.

"Sure I am, if we are going to do this thing, then you better be ready to take worse than me annoying you."  
"Like what." asked Colin, not sure what Ezro meant.

"Like torture." said Ezro with a serious glance at him.  
"You're joking." Colin laughed a fake laugh that revealed his worry on the subject.

"I wish I was." said Ezro silently as if he knew more than he could tell.  
Colin looked uneasy.

"Look, I didn't mean to scare you. Just tried to bring you up to the reality we face. I'm just as scared and troubled with all this."  
"That encouraged me greatly." said Colin sarcastically.

"Neither the military or the streets of Diaz City wouldn't prepared me for such a giant beast, whatever that chased us back there."  
"Yeah, I guess."

"So we are in this together. Whether we like it or not."  
Ezro knew the Colin had a fragile psychology on this matter. He had some purpose that made no sense to him, something to do with 'Overlords', whatever they were. But he wasn't sure if this whole 'Overlord' thing was convincing enough to lay Colin down his life on the line.

He thought this through, rattling the idea in his head. VALKYRIE and No-One kept Colin in this 'mission' despite knowing his foreign nature to life threatening situations.  
But there was one answer he liked, there was something Colin can provide when they find this Longwill scriptures. Whatever that help may be.

=I=

"You done with this place?" asked Douglass as Ladlow came outside.  
Ladlow looked somewhat melancholic as if she is leaving this place for good.

"Come on now, it isn't really that far." smiled Douglass trying to encourage the girl.  
She looked way more strong and battered than Douglass himself and she looked generally serious and calm, but right now she revealed a weakness.

Douglass knew that there was more to this fight club to Ladlow than a simple club.  
She had history here.

"We need to leave." Douglass urged.  
Ladlow nodded "Go ahead, I'll get my bag and follow."

Douglass disappeared at the corner as Ladlow went to get things.  
She didn't even packed anything of importance.

She only had one bag to pack. It was a small sports bag that resembled a curled up sleeping bag.  
It might be a long trip she figured but she never needed much possessions except clothing. Her hands was the only thing to carry along.

"There you are."  
Ladlow turned to look at the barrel of a pistol. Phoenix had it pointed towards her, he wasn't too careful to aim properly.

"And you are?" asked Ladlow.  
"You don't remember me? You trashed my friend back there, you vigilante scum."

"Vigilante?" Smirked Ladlow.  
"I am no vigilante."

"You are. You will come to accept that fact when we are done with you." Phoenix said with a dirty smile on his face.  
"Our Boss wants you in a camo-dress, vigilante." said the thug next to Phoenix as if he was trying to explain the situation.  
Phoenix gave an angry glance at the thug, who cowered before his sight.

"I don't know who your Boss is, but he won't be getting his fantasy kick out of me." said Ladlow.  
"Moron-face here means that you are to be coming with us. Our Boss wants a chat with you. And the Boss always gets what he wants."  
"Not this time he won't" said Ladlow.  
"Just a friendly chat. Come on, don't cause any trouble now." said Phoenix trying to act all smooth and comforting.  
It felt exactly the opposite. He waited a few seconds before running out of patience.

"Okay so we do this the hard way, bring in Miss Vigilante's clothes." he said to his friend.  
Thug came back with a camo patterned pants and shirt.  
Phoenix grabbed the clothes and threw it towards Ladlow. Cloths dispersed around awkwardly before Ladlow.  
"Dress you slut, or I open several other holes in you and dress your corpse myself." said Phoenix.

"Is this a fantasy of yours?" asked Ladlow.  
"What? No. Get dressed." said Phoenix shaking his head.  
"And then what? You're going to rape me?"  
"Heh." snorted Phoenix. "I wouldn't rape an ape looking bitch like you even if I had the chance."  
He emphasized his pistol "Well, now I have such a chance and that proves my point."  
"I remember you now. You are the thugs who attacked that foreign girl." said Ladlow.  
"Very nice, genius. And thanks to your stupid actions you have an open invitation to meeting our Boss."  
"Such an interesting person this Boss must be."  
"Yes, and we have a clear dress code. Now put those on."

"No offense, gentleman. But we were just thinking of travelling. So I have to reject your kind offer." Ladlow put a hand on her hip and answered sarcastically.  
"You don't realise the weight of the situation, do you?" said Phoenix with a victorious smirk. He paused. "Wait. Who's we?"  
Instictively he looked back and saw his friend was grabbed by someone wearing a dirty trenchcoat, with a pistol pointed at Phoenix' head.  
"Her and me." the man answered.  
"Fucking shit."

"Hi, Phoenix." said Douglass tightening his grip on the man's neck so that he gasped for air.  
"Cop fucker." said Phoenix, clearly irritated with the turn of events.

"You two know each other?" asked Ladlow.  
"I put him behind bars more than I cared to count back when I was in the force." said Douglass.  
"And I always got out. What's different now?" smirked Phoenix.

"Nothing, you are still going to submit."  
"Submit? Because you had him in a grip? Hah. Don't make me laugh." he said pointing the gun right at Ladlow's head.  
"I have your girlfriend here in my sights."

"Get real Phoenix. I only hold your friend in a grip to use him as a body shield. I would have came in shooting if I wanted you both dead."  
Phoenix thought about this for a moment and realised that Douglass didn't need his friend to threaten him.  
He looked at Douglass assessing the situation, when he realised he lost sight of Ladlow it was already too late.  
Ladlow closed in, moving beside the pistol getting out of the line of fire, she landed a hit so strong that Phoenix' arm went stiff.  
Gun clanked on the ground. She kicked his leg next, felling him to the ground.  
"The gun." warned Douglass.  
Ladlow didn't realised it at first but the pistol and Phoenix had fallen close to each other.  
She put a feet on the pistol to prevent any harm.

"Good job." complemented Douglass and Ladlow returned a smile.  
Douglass pushed the thug in his grip to the ground. "Stay on the ground."

"Who are these guys?" asked Ladlow.  
"They're the crime in this city. Can't get rid of them. They always come back. But I don't know what gang they're in right now."  
Douglass turned to Phoenix, he was still holding onto his arm that hurt so bad.  
"Some mighty hit." he said to Ladlow.  
"Well, he shouldn't have pointed a gun at me." replied Ladlow.

"Piece of shit cop and his whore. You just wait. I'll rain down on you like hell." growled Phoenix as he squirmed on the ground.  
"Yeah, yeah. I heard that a lot. Tell me which gang are you in now, Phoenix."

"He works for me." said a third voice.  
They all looked at source of the voice, but there was just a streetlight all alone in the darkness surrounding it.

"Who?" said Ladlow.  
There was nobody there where the voice had came from.  
But then they managed to see a figure sitting atop the streetlight.

"Who are you?" asked Douglass.  
"I am the Boss." said Diaz.

"You're the one who wanted to talk to me?" asked Ladlow.  
"I wanted these two to find me someone I can spent the night with. But they failed."said Diaz.

"I'm glad that I'm not good enough for you." said Ladlow.  
"I was looking for more of a challenge. Someone with some background maybe. But you two look squeamish."

"We are glad to hear that." said Douglass. "Now leave us alone."  
"Oh? And why would I let two healthy lambs walk away. I haven't got my fill for the night." said Diaz with a grin.

"What sick people are these?" asked Ladlow.  
"Some cult I guess." replied Douglass.  
"You in a cult now Phoenix?" said Douglass kicking the man in the stomach.  
He looked up at the dark figure atop the light for a reaction but he didn't seemed to care that his guy was in pain.

"Who are you anyway?" asked Ladlow.  
Diaz was standing atop the light and Douglass kept him in his sight. He was ready for him to make a move.  
But Diaz wasn't there anymore. He didn't even blink but he somehow missed Diaz move.

Ladlow was also not able to track Diaz. The gang boss was at Douglass' face.  
Douglass wanted to take a step back but he wasn't able to. His muscles felt frozen in place.

"I take it you two don't know me." said Diaz, now that his face was completely revealed.  
"No." said Douglass. Diaz was right to his face and it bothered him greatly. But he couldn't move. Why couldn't he move?  
He looked at Ladlow and saw that she was shocked with the seemingly incomprehensible situation they found themselves in.

"What do you want with us." asked Douglass, more calm before this bizarre interaction than Ladlow.  
"Oh, just the usual. A taste." said Diaz.

"Taste of what?" he asked and felt teeth biting down on his neck.  
The pain was immense at first but something stopped him from being able to fight back. He felt as if his head was dizzy and brain was swimming on water inside his skull.  
It felt as if his brain had turned into a whirlpool and was twisting inside his skull.

Ladlow didn't quite able to make out what was happening. Apparently the guy was attacking Douglass. Was he stabbing him?  
Her muscles weren't answering her but she forced her will to break free from this engulfing dread.

She didn't know Douglass. They had just met. But this guy was doing something to him. And seeing someone get hurt before her really drove her over the edge.  
Her muscles burned with fatigue as they fought not to move, but she broke through. "This is me, god damn it." she thought to herself. Everything that had happened to her. Every pain and suffering she went through flared in her mind in rage.

She won't let the same thing happen again. She won't let someone die before her again.  
Her fists landed on Diaz' side with crushing force.

She had punched many a things in her life. And this wasn't the feeling when you get when you punched living flesh. It was hard, as if there wasn't blood in there at all. The skin would bent before her punch and tiny veins would rupture and bleed into the skin. But this felt like punching a wet cement.  
"Is he wearing somekind of armor?" she thought reflexively. But the guy was wearing a vest and his tatooed arms were bare. It couldn't be.

Still the punch was heavily reflected. She landed several punches on his side. Hitting at his arms and back without actually calculating what damage it might cause.  
She was too enraged to think things clearly. Her wild outburst went with instinct, training and pure anger.

It made Diaz turned towards her and she saw his bloodied face.  
"What the..." she said in horror as she couldn't comprehend what was happening before her eyes.  
"You made a bad mistake, boy." said Diaz and grabbed her neck before Ladlow could even react.

She saw Douglass' body fall as Diaz let go and turned his attention to her. Ladlow's eyes grew in fear as she realised that there was nothing she could do.  
A reflexive punch landed hard on Diaz' cheek but it only made Ladlow's hand hurt. He didn't even flinch.

For a long time in her life, she felt helpless. She had suffered bullying, degradation and social ridicule. But those did not fazed her.  
This helplessness was something else. It was as if she was chained down and beaten.  
She had felt it once in the past. When the pimp beat her whore mother dead. She was just a kid back then. And the guy was huge. She hid in the next room while it happened.  
She only managed to get out of hiding when it was all over and the voices were silenced. It was quite usual for her mother to get beat once in a while. She was used to that and only felt scared. But the dread when she was standing over her mother's corpse was something else.  
She just laid there with young Ladlow standing over her corpse. Her eyes open in death, blood leaking between her closed teeth. Ladlow wanted her to come back to life. But she was powerless to do anything. That helplessness embedded itself into her that day. Living in her like a black hole in hiding.

And now it was back. Douglass was down and this man was going to kill them both. For what she would not know. She would not even get an explanation why she was being killed.  
Her mind was blank except the image floating in her vision. The violent angry face of this man.

Diaz raised a fist and swung it hard at her. The hit never came. Diaz realised that Ladlow wasn't looking at him but to someone behind him. Someone with a strong grip on his arm.  
He turned to see who managed to stop his strike. It was an old man with too many muscles on him.

Tears had filled Ladlow's eyes. From fear? From happiness? From remembering? She didn't know. She didn't care.  
She was looking directly as the old Lou still hold onto Diaz' arm. Ladlow had seen Lou lift unimaginable weights at the bench. He was a monster of strength.  
Even the youngsters did not compare to him despite his age. He always laughed it up when they mentioned how strong he was.

Now that strong arm was shaking. It was barely holding Diaz' arm from reaching forward and punching Ladlow's face to a pulp. Veins trailed under the skin as blue/purple lines as Lou forced his entire will to holding the arm.  
Diaz looked at the old man with contempt in his face.

The two men kept staring eye to eye for an uncomfortable length of time. It was Lou that talked first because his arm was failing in this contest of strength.  
"Diaz." he said.

"Hey, old man." said Diaz. He still didn't relaxed his arm.  
"This girl belongs to me." said Lou nodding towards Ladlow with his chin.

After a long pause, "Oh." said Diaz. He let go off Ladlow and relaxed his arm, Lou let go off Diaz' arm but his own arm was aching in pain.  
"Girl? I took her for a boy." said Diaz looking at Ladlow carefully.

Then he used the inside of his vest to wipe the blood of his face. Blood wasn't entirely washed away.  
He was too relaxed despite Lou still towering behind him.  
"So old man, what are you up to these days?" he said as if this was a casual reunion.

Ladlow wanted to ask the obvious question but she felt silence was wiser. She went over to Douglass and looked at his bloodied neck.  
She searched for a wound but found none among the reddened skin.

"What did you do to him?" she asked in anger.  
"Nothing. We just had a lovely kiss." smiled Diaz disgustingly with pink colored teeth from blood stains.

"You are a maniac." said Ladlow.  
"Ladlow, that's enough." said Lou.

She realised that Lou was more composed than his usual self. He didn't joke around this time.  
"Yeah, Lou. You didn't answer me the first time." said Diaz looking at the old man.

"You don't need an answer Diaz. If you wanted to know you would come and ask beforehand."  
"True. I'm sorry old friend. But you know me. I don't care."

"I know Diaz. I know." said Lou with a feeling of experience behind the words.  
"Sorry to barge in to your place. I didn't know these were your people." said Diaz turning to leave.

When Diaz had disappeared in the shadows Lou said "You wouldn't care even if you knew, you old bastard."

"There is no wound on him." said Ladlow finally snapping Lou from his stare towards the shadow where Diaz had disappeared to.  
Lou ordered two strong men to carry Douglass back to their gym where they had first aid kits and water.  
"He would be fine." he said to Ladlow.  
"Who was he?" asked Ladlow.

Lou shook his head "Nobody that I want you to be seeing. Forget about him." he said.

=I=

"Weeee are on aaaaa roaadtrip." sang Colin as the pop-song from the radio kept singing.  
Wind blew Ezro's black hair from the open window.

"You seem too happy after everything that happened." he said to Colin.  
"Well, it was all in the past now. We are out of the city and on our way."

"What if where we are going is worse than where we came from?" asked Ezro with a smirk.  
"We are going nonetheless. Don't you think it's better to enjoy the moment, rather than brooding on the past?"

"I am enjoying the moment. It's just that song is stupid."  
"Okay, I'll skip through the stations for you." Colin skipped through the frequencies.  
Radio buzzed between each station as he turned the dial.

He skipped several stations that blabber on about love and fantasy relationships.  
There was a droning on political debate on one of the stations.

Several stations went by with telling you about the Jesus' return and how it was going to be awesome.  
That occured something to Ezro.

"You believe in Jesus?" he asked.  
Colin was dumbstruck "What? No. You?"

"I thought I believed once, but not anymore, no."  
"It's all nonsense and made up crap."

"But you believe in this Overlord thing you spoke of before."  
"That's different. There is proof of that."

"Maybe, but I tend to believe in things that effect me." said Ezro.  
"Yeah, but these effect you in secret ways. So you won't even notice."

"Speaking of mystical bullshit, what about this Longwill scripture? Why would a powerful organization like VALKYRIE want with a book on religious gibberish."  
"All religions come from Overlords. They made them to control mankind. So it makes sense."

"It does? Huh." shrugged Ezro.  
"I just don't see it." he added.

"You will don't worry. We saw that beast that chased us all around. You will get your proof yet."  
"So what you are saying is that there are going to be a lot of trouble up ahead."

Colin gulped "That wasn't my intention, but I don't want to think that pessimistically."  
"Hey, hold on. That one's good." said Ezro and surprised Colin as he was skipping through the stations.

"...my friends are gonna be there too..."  
"...I'm on a highway to hell..."  
"...On the highway to hell..."  
"...Highway to hell..."

Colin gave an angry look at Ezro who were enjoying the song with a cynical look on his face.  
"Why are you smiling?."  
Ezro kept smiling, "Your face, it's priceless."

Car drove towards the horizon and disappeared in the distance.

But the time stood still. The last word of the song hanging in the air like an echo.  
It repeated "Hell, hell, hell..." and echoed as it sank underground.

It echoed down into the earth, going down several metres deep.  
Six rottıng corpses were there hear it.  
Not heard it with their ears. Those parts were the first of be eaten by many legged insects and crawling things. Their noses and flesh meat had also fallen victim to the ravagers of the underearth.  
They more likely felt the echo of the noise which made its way deep. They knew it nonetheless. Even without ears to hear or brains to process, their souls shivered under the horrid word they all heard.  
Living didn't care much for the land after the life. for they did not know.  
But the six man lying underneath, half devoured in a torture that took decades, knew the true meaning of the world beyond. What it signified.  
For even now they burned in the eternal flames. Their souls in hell, already long off the highway.


End file.
